The Whistle's Melody
by cascade-of-black-ink
Summary: Laura, William, John, and Anne KirkePatrick are sent to the country to spend the summer with a family friend. There, Anne finds a magical whistle that sends them on the adventure of their lives and uncovers the discovery of a lifetime.
1. A Most Curious Whistle

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of C. S. Lewis's brilliant creations, but I do own the will to make a fan fic out of them. XD

Chapter 1: A Most Curious Whistle

Anne Kirke-Patrick was just about to doze off when there came a loud and smart rapping on the compartment door. She opened her eyes just in time to see her eldest sister, Laura, get up from her seat and open the door. The train conductor gave back their tickets and said, "Coombe Halt's next up."

"That's us!" exclaimed John, her elder brother but only three years elder than her, who had been staring out the train window throughout the journey.

"Thanks," said Laura and she kept the tickets in her satchel. "Come on, guys, get the trunk down." William, the second eldest and only one year younger than Laura, shut his history textbook and began to pull the trunk down from the shelf above their heads.

"Can I have Mary with me?" asked Anne. Mary was her favourite doll. Before the journey, her mother had locked it up in the trunk.

"Can I have Mary with me?" mimicked John in a girlish voice, then in a very harsh tone, he said, "Oh, grow up, will you?"

"John," Laura frowned at him. To Anne, she said as gently as she could, "You remember what Mum said about Mary, don't you?"

Anne scowled and folded her arms. "But Mum's not here. Don't be so high and mighty, Laura. She won't know if you don't tell her."

"Hey if Anne can get Mary back, can I have Slocum too?" asked John, his eyes shining with excitement. Slocum was the name of his Swiss army knife that had been given to him on his eighth birthday by his grandfather who had been in the British Indian Army.

"No," said Laura sternly. "Mum said no, so there you go. Live with it."

Anne felt a welling anger rising up in her chest so quickly and so painful that she thought she was burst. "No! No! No! No! I want Mary!"

"Anne!" exclaimed William. He frowned at Laura. "Come on, Laura, just give it to her."

"I want Slocum too!" yelled John.

"Shut it! Shut it both of you!" said Laura crossly. She yanked the trunk out of William's hands as the train slowed down and came to a halt. "We're here. Let's go."

"But Laura - "

"No means no."

Tears stung the corners of Anne's eyes, and if it weren't for the shame of being caught crying, she would have cried with all her might until Laura gave it to her. She wanted Mary. She missed her! William went down first, and then followed by John, who was scowling and clutching his fists tightly, and then an almost-teary Anne, and last of all Laura, the trunk going blamppity-blamp behind her as she dragged it down the train steps.

Coombe Halt was really no more than a halt. It was a mere platform with a dismal-looking bench on it and worn sign saying "COOMBE". The town itself had grown a little since the war, but other than that, everything had been pretty much the same for the past hundred years.

"We've got to keep an eye out for a Mrs - " William squinted at the note that their mother had given him, " – La – Lafferty."

"Wonder who's that?" said John.

"It's Miss Pevensie's housekeeper," replied William.

"Let's sit on the trunk and wait," suggested Laura, and they did. Anne tugged on Laura's arm and said, "I want Mary."

"No."

"I want Slocum."

"No!"

"But I'm so awfully bored!"

"Me too!"

"Read these then," Laura rummaged in her satchel and produced two storybooks entitled 'Treasure Island' and 'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn'. John groaned. "Ugh! Books!"

"They're not that bad. Come on, try one of them!" Laura said sweetly. She had been trying for a long time to get her two youngest siblings to cultivate a love for reading, like her and William. Anne scrunched her face up. She only liked books with pictures in them. She couldn't imagine how anyone could put up with nothing but line after line after line made up of only words.

They heard a rattling and jingling and the clip-clop of hoofs and a horse and cart trotted into view. A plump woman was driving the cart and she had a pleasant, smiling face that made her instantly likeable. She wore a simple country dress and she had a small, white bonnet over her head. The cart came to a stop beside the platform.

"Hallo there!" she sang out. "Are you the Kirke-Patricks?"

Laura stood, relief written over her face. "Yes, Mrs. Lafferty."

"Good! Come on up here then. Oh, watch that trunk, let the boy handle it. Here, little girl, let me help you up. What a sour face you have, boy!" After they had all settled down comfortably, Mrs. Lafferty set off for the house.

The children introduced themselves to her one by one. "Laura, William, John, and Anne! What perfectly simple names you have! And thank goodness they're easy to remember. Imagine having to deal with all four of you this summer!"

The children laughed. "We promise we won't bother you too much," said Anne. The good cheer of Mrs. Lafferty had erased her anger about not being able to have her doll back. Her laughs and smiles were so infectious that even John had put on a cheerful face.

Soon, they arrived at a huge manor. Such was the size that the siblings stared at it with their mouths open. It was a very old house, the kind that seemed to have all sorts of delightful secrets to be discovered in every corner. Anne instantly thought of the grand time they would have playing pretend. They could pretend that they were lords and ladies. On one wing of the manor, however, there was some construction work going on. Mrs. Lafferty steered the cart past the messy scene and pulled to a stop at the back entrance of the manor.

They got down from the cart and Mrs. Lafferty helped William to bring the trunk down. They climbed the short, uneven brick steps up the back door with Mrs. Lafferty at the lead. She opened the door and they all trooped into a small, but neat kitchen. On the stove a pot of mashed potatoes was simmering, and a heavenly smell wafted from the oven. Mrs. Lafferty sat on one chair and caught her breath. Then she wiped her forehead with a handkerchief and said to the children, "Come now, I'll show you to your rooms."

They went out of the kitchen into a long, wood-panelled corridor and up several flights of stairs and past many doors until they came to a corridor which was situated just next to the unfinished part of the manor. The house was so big that Anne believed it would take no time at all for her to get lost and never find her room again.

William and John were to share a room and Laura and Anne would share another. There was a fairly-sized bathroom in each room.

"With a tub!" exclaimed Anne. "Oh, Laura!" She ran out of the bathroom to get her sister. "There's a tub in the bathroom!"

Laura laughed as she removed her jacket and removed her barrette. Anne couldn't help but feel a little jealous as beautiful, dark curls fell to Laura's shoulders. In her opinion, her sister was the prettiest girl in the world. And a lot of boys in her school seemed to think the same. Laura never liked that sort of attention. That was a source of admiration and respect for Anne.

"You bathe first," said Laura. "I'll fetch our clothes from our trunk in the boys' room."

"All right!" said Anne excitedly and she ran into the bathroom. She had only ever bathed once in a tub. That was when her mother had brought them to stay in a fancy hotel by a beach for a holiday.

"Not too much hot water or you'll scald!" said Laura before leaving the room.

A few minutes later, Laura returned with their clothes. While Anne bathed and splashed and had super fun in the tub, she arranged their clothes neatly in an antique cupboard that stood beside the bathroom door. After Anne had grown quite fed-up of the water, she climbed out of the tub and ran half-naked towards the cupboard to fetch her clothes.

"Finally!" said Laura. "You took ages to get out of there! Did you drain the water?"

She gasped. "I forgot!" Laura sighed and dashed into the bathroom.

Anne got dressed and combed her hair and, without waiting for Laura, she went to her brothers' room, which was conveniently beside theirs. She entered without knocking and found John reading a comic-book as he lay on his stomach on the bed. She grinned cheekily and jumped on him. "Got you!"

"Augh! Get off! Anne! Argh! You've messed up my page. ANNE!"

Anne giggled and leapt of his back and sat on William's bed. She did so like to disturb and distress John, more so because she found the way boys his age reacted to being disturbed funnier than the way girls reacted. She bounced on the bed, causing creaking sounds because the bed was quite old, and finally, not being able to stand it anymore, John clapped his hands over his ears and bellowed, "STOP – IT!"

"Stop what?" William had just come out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his lower abdomen. Anne's jaw dropped when she saw him like this. "Will!"

He blushed furiously. "Turn around, Anne. I want to get changed."

Anne giggled and shook her head gleefully. "Not a chance. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Anne! You're a girl!"

"I've never seen you without your clothes on before."

"Anne, it's not nice to see a boy when he's, er, without his clothes."

Anne laughed. "But what's wrong with it? You've seen me change hundreds of times."

"That's different. And that was when you were little."

John couldn't stop himself. He laughed so hard that he had to clutch his stomach. What an awkward scene! It was so nice to see his brother this embarrassed. He couldn't wait to tell his friends in school about this.

Finally, Anne relented and she turned around. She heard the handle of the door turn and knew that it was Laura. She turned to see if any commotion would come out of it, but William was quicker than she thought. He was fully dressed as Laura popped her head in.

"Can I come in?"

"Er, yeah, sure," said William.

Laura grinned and came in, shutting the door behind her. She sat on the bed beside Anne and gave her a bear hug. "Oh, don't, Laura! I can't breathe!"

"Too right you won't," said Laura and she released her.

William came to sit beside John and he sighed and said, "So what are we going to do now?" Anne noticed that his face was still a bit flushed.

Laura shrugged. "I dunno. Read, eat, - " she lay on the bed with a sigh, " – sleep."

"I don't think so," said John. He closed his comic book and sat up straight. "It's sunny outside. It would be a real waste to spend it the afternoon without a game of cricket."

"But we don't know if there's any cricket set here," said William. "And I'm sure we're all quite tired from the train journey."

"Why don't we explore the house?" said Anne brightly.

"That's a fine idea," said Laura, and they all agreed and trooped out of the room. They started with their floor, opening every door there was. Most of the rooms were empty, some with only one or two simple furniture like a rocking chair or a bedside table. When they had finished one floor, they went up one more floor and tried all the doors on that floor too, and floor after floor they went like an endless carnival ride until John said, "Look, this is a complete waste of time. None of these rooms have anything worth to look at. We might as well just ask Mrs. Lafferty if there's any cricket set to play with, or, better still, an electric train set."

"He's right," said William. He was tired from having to open and peek into every room, and furthermore, playing scavenger hunting wasn't really his favourite game. Like a true London teenager, he enjoyed cricket and football and badminton better.

Anne pouted. She was having so much fun even if they hadn't found anything too interesting. Laura noticed the disappointed look on her face. Although she had told herself over and over again to not relent too much to her demanding little sister, she didn't want Anne to be upset either, especially since she had denied Mary to her earlier.

"Oh come on," she said, "let's explore a little bit more. Tomorrow we'll play cricket."

William and John exchanged tiresome looks with each other but they agreed. "You promised," said John, eyeing Laura warily. She nodded firmly and said, "Yes, I promise." Anne gave a small whoop and dashed ahead of them, suddenly finding extra energy. They ran after her.

She found a small staircase to her right and quickly climbed it. At the end of the staircase was a small door. Excited, she fumbled with the handle and stumbled into a dusty, sunny room. She coughed and rubbed her eyes as her siblings followed behind her.

"Oh, heavens!" exclaimed William as he too, coughed. "So much dust!"

"And what smell! Yurgh!" said John.

Laura covered her nose and mouth and was the first among them to get a clear view of the room. It was a small one and there were all sorts of things heaped and thrown there, like a dumping place. Here and there was a broken chair, a rusty-looking gramophone, a wardrobe with a sunken-in door, and a toy wooden horse.

"This place is an absolute mess," she concluded.

Anne managed to steady herself and set to poking about in an intelligible heap. William sat on an old-looking trunk and he was accompanied by Laura. He whispered to her, "This is a bad idea."

"Just let Anne have her way this once."

"But Mum said - "

"Just this once."

"All right."

Anne had gotten to the bottom of the heap and was about to give up on it because it didn't yield anything interesting at all. However, she consented to give the heap a fateful shove, and the faint glimmer of tarnished gold caught her eye. She dug it out and discovered that it was a whistle, a very charming one, and very unlike those that hung around the necks of the sports mistresses in her school. It was shaped like a conch, only it was thinner and longer. It was as thick and as long as a pencil. But she had never seen anything the likes of this before. In her opinion, it was a most curious whistle indeed.

She cleaned the whistle on her skirt and put it to her lips and blew it.

A clear, ringing sound, like the sound of the tinkle of a bell, pierced through the stuffy room and brought with it gladness and mirth. It was a sweet, joyful sound, as happy as the singing of a thrush welcoming the spring. Then the sharp note lowered one notch and became like a low but sweet whistle, bringing with it a sense of something that grew and took life.

Unbeknownst to Anne Kirke-Patrick, or anyone in this world, the sound of the whistle passed the borders of the world and entered a deep, black void. It stirred an ancient magic and trembled ever so gently the surface of a magnificent power that had lain asleep for millenniums, undisturbed like a great, gentle giant. The sound of the whistle awakened the cold, still hearts of sleeping creatures and the dead, gnarled roots of old, wizened trees that had not seen the sun for ages. This was a dead land, a land that had been destroyed and had life taken out of it, but miraculously, a thin thread of it chose to continue struggling in that black darkness. A thread of life that was so fragile that it threatened to snap any moment. But the sound of the whistle, its sweet melody, sent shivers all through that thread and the thread became stronger and stronger until the world stirred.

And in the heart of that Nothing, the light of a very old lamp-post suddenly flickered to life.


	2. Miss Pevensie's Dreadful Temper

Author's note: Thanks to Callie, if you're still following this, you'll know in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I – DO – NOT – OWN – ANY – OF – C.S. LEWIS'S – BRAINCHILDREN. PERIOD. :D

Chapter 2: Miss Pevensie's Dreadful Temper

After the sound had ended, Anne concluded happily, "I like this whistle." And she made up her mind to keep it. Laura saw her pocket the whistle and she said, "Anne . . ."

"What?" she whirled around crossly. "Are you going to say that I'm not supposed to keep it too?"

"No," said William quickly. "But it could belong to Miss Pevensie, you know. It's her house after all."

"We should ask her, at the very least," added Laura, who was grateful to her brother for the quick thinking. Anne frowned, but she didn't seem so cross anymore. "Must we really? Maybe she doesn't want it anymore."

"Never tempt fate," said John, mimicking a wise sage. William laughed and Laura smiled. Even Anne's lips twitched a little bit. "All right," she relented at last, "let's go find her now."

"Let's," said Laura and they trooped out of the attic. They descended to the kitchen to ask Mrs. Lafferty, for it would be utterly pointless to go about looking for Miss Pevensie in such a big house and get themselves lost instead. If there was anyone who would know where Miss Pevensie was, it would be Mrs. Lafferty.

"Why do you want to see her?" asked Mrs. Lafferty curiously.

Anne took the whistle out of her pocket and gave it to the housekeeper. "I found this and I like it so I want to ask Miss Pevensie if I could have it."

Mrs. Lafferty took the whistle and examined it with her floury hands, frowning and clicking her tongue here and there. "I don't remember seeing this. Where did you find it?"

"In the attic," replied Laura.

Mrs. Lafferty laughed nervously. "If that's the case," she handed it back to Anne, "just keep it. You needn't ask her."

Their eyes widened, for they were the sort of children who were honest and didn't feel comfortable at all about keeping another person's belonging without their permission.

"Why not?" asked William.

"Because the attic's where she usually keeps the things that she has no use for, like her old dresses, her piano, her school trunk – things that she doesn't have the heart to throw out. But don't you let her know that you've been in there, though."

"And why not?" asked John this time, his curiosity instantly aroused, because he had begun to think of Miss Pevensie as a mysterious, slightly batty old dame with a dark and shadowy past. He could see her now, dressed in a rich, black velvet dress, her white hair tied up in a bun and covered with a black bonnet. Her eyes would be a very pale grey and her lips very thin and strict. And when she spoke, her voice would be cold and steely and hoarse, like Mrs. Applefinn who taught him mathematics in school.

"She doesn't like children poking about in her house, especially not the attic, oh no! Why, she doesn't let even me to touch the things in there. I've only managed to take a peek in it, and that's saying something too. I think you should know that she detests children," said Mrs. Lafferty grimly.

The Kirke-Patricks immediately felt their hearts shrink. John's image of Miss Pevensie became a serious possibility. He gulped without meaning to.

"Oh, don't be frightened, children!" laughed Mrs. Lafferty. "It'll be all right as long as you stay out of her way, especially during her parties. Don't wander about the ground and first floor and most of all not the attic, and you'll be all right. Just don't let her see you. Honestly, I don't even know why she even agreed to take care of all of you when she can't even stand the sight of a baby. Your mother must have been a very good friend of hers. And she doesn't usually do favours either."

The children relaxed a bit, but now they were positively afraid of Miss Pevensie. They each took one of the chairs strewn about the kitchen and gathered around the table where Mrs. Lafferty was making some sort of dough. Even though John was a little scared of Miss Pevensie, he wanted to know if his vision of her was real.

"Tell us more about Miss Pevensie."

Mrs. Lafferty chuckled, but she said yes, she will. "Well, I don't know much about her myself, but I do know that her name was Susan Pevensie and that she's been engaged to Sir Richard Huntingdon for three years, and who wouldn't know about it because Richard Huntingdon is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. He's young, handsome, and rich enough. And before that, she was married to a sick, old man called Philip Buckle who was a very important cotton merchant and when he died, all his fortune went to her. After he died, Miss Pevensie left London to move to the country, where she bought this piece of land and built this mansion on it."

"What?" exclaimed Anne. "You mean that this isn't really an old house?" She was really very dismayed.

"Why, no! It's only ten years old, but I suppose, yes, you can call this old."

"Do continue, Mrs. Lafferty," said John, a little cross with Anne for interrupting the story.

"When she moved here, she gave out a lot of parties. Glamorous ones, you know, the kind where the adults come in fancy suits and dresses and drink wine and dance until late in the night. Sometimes, some of them stay here for the night and after the party the next morning they would play cricket and badminton out in the lawn."

"Cricket!" said William.

Laura laughed. "Well, that's good news for you, Will." He grinned sheepishly.

Mrs. Lafferty laughed too. "I think it'll be all right for you to play with one of the sets that Miss Pevensie has. Anyway, as I was saying, Miss Pevensie was very famous in the London elite society, so lot's of rich people come here for her parties. She met Sir Huntingdon here and it was said that they fell in love at once. I don't know about that, but what I do know is that he always stays over for the night and, well, he does not very nice things with Miss Pevensie behind closed doors." Her face scrunched up in disgust.

John burst out in surprised laughter. "What? A man like that Huntingdon falling for an old hag like Miss Pevensie? He's got to be after her money."

The other children were shocked to hear that, but they laughed as well. Mrs. Lafferty probably laughed the loudest, so much until she banged the table with her kitchen spoon. "Oh dear me, John Kirke-Patrick!" she said at last, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Old hag? Old hag, you tell me? Oh, don't you let her hear that coming out of your mouth! She's beautiful and still young, I tell you, and a little vain of course, and with a good number of airs and graces, but she's a stunning woman, I tell you. Which man could resist her beauty and charm, I should like to know. Ho ho, old hag!" At this point, Mrs. Lafferty had finished with her dough and she shooed the children out of the kitchen so that she could finish cooking the dinner in peace.

"And remember to come back at precisely six-thirty sharp," she waggled a finger at them.

"But Mrs. Lafferty, we usually have our dinner at seven," said Laura.

"That's when you were at home. But now you're in Miss Pevensie's house, so the rules have changed." But she gave her a kind smile. "Now, out, all of you! And keep out of the ground and first floor!"

"Yes, Mrs. Lafferty!" they chorused together and they went upstairs to Laura and Anne's room to sit and talk things over.

"I say, Miss Pevensie sounds like a mean grown-up," said Anne.

"Oh, don't say that, Anne," said Laura. "You won't know for sure until you really see her. Remember what Mum used to say? Never judge a book by its cover."

"But she doesn't like children," said John pointedly. "How could she be a nice person when she hates kids like us?"

"You heard Laura," said William. "You can't make an assumption of someone until you really get to know that person."

"But all the same," said Anne with a shudder, "I think we should watch our step around here."

"Anne's right," said Laura, "It doesn't hurt to be careful. Give me the whistle, Anne, and I'll see if I can get it to hang around your neck."

"Can you really?" asked Anne excitedly, and she gave the whistle to Laura. Laura laughed and examined the whistle. "I think I can. Look here, there's a small puncture in this curve. I'll see if I've got any loose thread hanging around in my bag." She rummaged in her satchel and came out with a long, triumphant strand of red wool thread. She inserted the thread through the puncture and tied it up together at one end and put it over Anne's head. The whistle hung from the thread like a pendant.

"Oh, thank you, Laura!" she said and she threw her arms around her sister.

"Oof! You're welcome!" And from that moment on, Anne vowed never to be parted from her whistle

Nothing much happened during the next few days in the manor. The children went about their activities as usual: bothering Mrs. Lafferty in the kitchen, helping her to clean some empty, dusty rooms, and playing cricket and badminton using Miss Pevensie's game sets, which were very expensive but of high quality. And all the while, they never crossed paths with Miss Pevensie herself, not even during mealtimes. They were so caught up in their games and housework that they didn't get a chance to explore the house.

One day, it rained. Mrs. Lafferty had promised them the day before that she would take them to town with her on her weekly grocery trip but because of the rain, she had to leave the children at home. They were very sore by this decision.

"Can't we go with you, Mrs. Lafferty? Please?" begged Anne, who was fed up, having been cooped up in the house for almost one week. You would too if you were in her shoes.

"It's raining," Mrs. Lafferty replied firmly as she chose a floral-printed umbrella from the umbrella stand in the foyer. "Usually I won't even dream of going out in such a horrid weather but Miss Pevensie is having a party tomorrow so I really musn't dawdle!"

"But it's only a drizzle," protested John.

"No," said Mrs. Lafferty in a tone that permitted no further argument. "I shall be back in a jiffy, if the cart doesn't get stuck in the mud."

"Don't be mean, Mrs. Lafferty," whined Anne. But she knew that there was no chance of her changing her mind.

"Now you children mind your behaviours. If you're all good and neat and quiet when I get home, and if it doesn't rain, I'll bring you to town the day after the party."

"Hurrah!" cheered the children, and Mrs. Lafferty opened her umbrella and went out into the rain.

"You heard Mrs. Lafferty," said Laura. "Let's go back to our rooms."

"And do what?" asked John. His eyes shone mischievously and Laura and William knew that he was up to no good. "This is a good time to check out what's on the first floor!"

"John!" said William, aghast. "Didn't you hear what Mrs. Lafferty said? She told us not to go to the first floor. Goodness knows what we'll run into there."

"You're not afraid of Miss Pevensie, are you?" laughed John. "She's just a grown-up. Come on, we'll be in our rooms before Mrs. Lafferty comes home."

"Oh, do let's!" said Anne. Normally, she was an obedient girl, but the disappointment had fired up her rebellious side. Laura and William exchanged worried looks. There would be trouble for sure.

"It's your call, Laura," said William.

"All right," said Laura, but she regretted it at once. John pressed the side of Anne's head roughly with a finger, laughed, and then ran up the grand mahogany staircase leading to the first floor. "You're It!"

"John!" cried Anne, and she ran after him.

"John!" exclaimed Laura and William together, both furious at John for messing with Anne's head, and they went after their siblings to make sure there wasn't any trouble.

What a racket John and Anne caused! Anne was an excellent sprinter, but John was quick at spotting corners and ducking into them. Corridor after corridor they went, their shoes clack-clacking against the wooden floor. Their shrill laughter and shrieks echoed all about the house, so that it was never difficult for Laura and William to find them. Laura wondered how the situation could get any worse when there was a loud and sickening crash. Panicked, they rounded a corner and saw a porcelain vase shattered to a million pieces on the floor. Anne had covered her mouth in horror and John looked positively sick.

And to all their horror: "THOSE DAMN CHILDREN!"

"MISS PEVENSIE!" The children quickly ran away from the scene. A door slammed and they knew it was her. Stomp-stomp-stomp they went, climbing stairs, running along corridors, and occasionally William or John opened up hidden passageways on accident. They ran and ran until they were quite sure that they were safe. Out of breath, they dropped onto the floor and panted and gasped.

"That – was – close," said William.

"Never – again," said Laura, casting an angry look at John and Anne, who hung their heads in shame.

But suddenly, "There you are."

The children looked up and gasped. Anne screamed a little and hid behind Laura. John paled and William groaned. Laura's heart skipped a beat.

Standing right before them was none other than Miss Pevensie herself.

Mrs. Lafferty was right about her hating children. In fact, she looked as if she was ready to eat them up. She was beautiful, that was for sure, but her beauty was cold, fierce, and so dreadful that she reminded the children of Cinderella's stepmother, or someone just as hateful. In one hand she held a thin stick that Laura and William realised was a cane.

Miss Pevensie took one step towards them and said coldly, "It was understood that you are not to disturb me, wasn't it?"

Laura looked at her siblings, but it seemed that they had all lost their wits. Then, she looked back up at Miss Pevensie as bravely as she could and said, "Yes, Miss Pevensie."

"Then what were you doing," her voice getting shriller and angrier by the minute, "running around – on the first floor – making one hell of a din – and SMASHING VASES?"

"We're sorry, Miss Pevensie!" blurted Laura, tears biting into the edges of her eyes. For once in a very long time, she was afraid. Anne had already burst into tears and John looked ready to do the same. William managed to hold himself steady, but his face was flushed.

"Do you really think that SORRY is enough? That vase was antique – it cost me two thousand pounds! Nothing you say or do will make up for it! Hold out your hand. You first!" she glared at Anne. Anne whimpered, but she held out a trembling hand.

SWISH-CRACK! The thin cane landed hotly on the little girl's hand. Anne cried out in pain and withdrew her hand. But it seemed that it only angered Miss Pevensie more. "Out! Another time!" Then SWISH-CRACK! it stung her hand again. "That's for your cowardice!"

For John, who held out his hand and bit his lip to stop himself from crying out, she hit his palm once. Then, she asked, "Who's the eldest here?"

"I am," said Laura in a small voice.

"Out," she told William, and he did. She whacked his hand once, and he didn't even flinch, but his face turned a shade too crimson.

"You," she turned onto Laura. "You're the eldest. And frankly, you should have known better."

"Yes, Miss Pevensie."

"Out."

Laura acquiesced and waited for the worst. SWISH- CRACK! the cane went, but not once, or twice. On the third hit, the siblings stared in horror at Laura's palm. It was getting redder and redder by the minute, but Laura didn't protest, nor did she cry or bite her lip or went red or paled. She just sat there patiently and solemnly, taking her punishment as if it was nothing at all. This was because she was racked with guilt. It was her fault that all this had happened. It was her fault that Miss Pevensie lost her vase. If she had been more sensible, if she had been thinking right, if she had said no instead of yes . . .

"STOP!" shouted John. "Stop it! You're hurting her! She didn't do anything to deserve this! It was my fault! I wanted to come here and disturb you. I wanted to play chase. I was the one who pushed the vase. Punish me! I'm the one you should be hitting more than the others. Just – stop . . ." And his voice trailed off.

Miss Pevensie, and not only her but all his siblings, turned to look at him in shock. Then, much to their surprise, and relief, she said quietly, "If I catch you messing about again, I won't hesitate to double your punishment."

"Yes, Miss Pevensie," said the children obediently and they ran off at once. They didn't stop until they reached Laura and Anne's room.

"Thanks, John," said Laura.

John blushed a bit. "It – it was nothing."

"Are you all right?" said William, taking her caned palm in his. Fortunately, Laura had had the sense to hold out her left hand. The hand was streaked here and there by a multitude of red slashes and it buzzed and stung and hurt most painfully.

"Do you want me to get some water to wash it?" offered Anne.

"No, it'll go off." Laura attempted a smile. "But thanks, all of you." She looked out the window and saw that the rain had stopped. "Look! The sun's out! Let's go out and play!" They all agreed and went out into the brilliant sun and laughed and clapped happily when they saw a most beautiful rainbow, the clearest one they had ever seen in their life.

After that, you can be quite sure that they didn't even dare to dream of visiting the first floor anymore.


	3. A Startling Discovery

Author's note: Wow, I've never gotten four reviews at one go! Thanks lots to Jillie, as always, Callie (glad you're still reading this) and Alix (if you're still noticing this). I hope this chapter's up to mark!

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own any of C.S. Lewis's characters. :D

Chapter 3: A Startling Discovery

The children had been hoping that Mrs. Lafferty had somehow not known about the dreadful incident with Miss Pevensie because they wanted badly to go to town. Mrs. Lafferty didn't mention it at all during dinnertime, and not at all when she tucked them all into their beds, but the next morning, it was the first thing she told them.

"Mrs. Lafferty!"

"No more! Not ever!" she shot dangerously glinting brown eyes at them, and the children shut their mouths at once. She gave them an excellent ticking-off for their disobedience and sent them back to their rooms so that they wouldn't cause any more trouble, especially since today was a party day.

The children had no choice but to shut themselves in either the girls' or the boys' room and did whatever they could to humour themselves. John, who was a huge fan of checkers, invited Anne to play a game with him. Anne was uninitiated in checkers, and she certainly didn't find anything amusing in a board of red and black squares and irritating little pieces that can be 'eaten', but since there was nothing else to do, she tried a hand at it anyway.

And to everyone's surprise, she won.

"No fair!" said John, blushing angrily as Anne whooped and hugged William, who had helped her on the pretext of her innocence.

Laura laughed. "Oh, cheer up, John. It's just a game. Don't get so worked up over it."

"You ever heard of beginner's luck?" teased William.

"Shut it if you don't want this," John shook a fist at his brother. He didn't see what was so funny in his gesture when Laura and Anne giggled and even William cracked a smile.

"Come on, John, let's play another round. And this time I promise I'll be easy on you," said Laura. John knew that she was no good at checkers so he cheered up a bit and agreed. Anne giggled and sat on the window-sill beside William and touched her neck to play with her whistle but she found nothing hanging around her neck. She looked down and the tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn't have lost it. If she really did, oh, oh, she couldn't bear the very thought of it! She ran out and went into her own room and turned her trunk and all the cupboards and drawers higgledy-piggledy in search for her beloved whistle. But no matter how hard she looked or how many times she dug through a particular heap of clothes and books, it was nowhere in sight.

She ran back into her brothers' room, shouting desperately, "I've lost it! Oh, I really have lost it!"

Laura and John, who were playing another round of checkers (John and Laura had argued about a move Laura made and decided to start all over again) looked up, startled, as Anne dashed heatedly into the room. Her face was flushed and she appeared as if she had just ran around Miss Pevensie's large, sprawling estate and back when she had really just left for a few minutes.

"What's the matter, Anne?" asked Laura.

"It's the whistle. It's gone," wailed Anne.

John let out a guffaw. "Oh, goody. I was beginning to think that you'd glued that silly toy to your neck."

Anne gave him an odd look which he noticed at once. His face grew a little red and he said hurriedly, "Have you checked everything properly before you start blaming me?"

"It's you!" said Anne, in a disbelieving and choked voice. "You took it!"

William scowled at John. "Give it back to her."

"No, I didn't!" he half-shouted. "Why would I even want to have anything to do with that – that thing?"

"Because you were mad at me for beating you at checkers," said Anne.

John's mouth fell open. "I _am_ mad, of course, but I wouldn't – I'd never – Laura, I'm not joking - "

"That's enough, John," said Laura. "If you've taken it, do give it back now."

John's expression grew more and more incredulous by the minute. Why weren't they believing him? He would never take anything and hide it – well, there was one time when he threw Anne's lollipop into the drain, and snipped one of her doll Mary's annoying little braids, but he – well, he really didn't do it this time!

"John," said William warningly.

"I'm telling you – I – DIDN'T – TAKE – THAT – STUPID – WHISTLE! So there!"

Anne burst into tears and ran away from the room. Laura gave her brother a look and went after her. William stood angrily, losing the mood to continue the game. He gave John a frown and said, "That wasn't very nice of you, John."

Now he was getting worked up as well. "I'm telling you, I didn't take it."

"You could, at least, be nice to Anne once in a while. I've seen the way you offer to help those pretty girls in your class. Why can't you do the same to Anne?"

"They're not the same! I hope you've noticed that Anne's three forms below me?"

"I do, but that's no excuse!"

"I've been really patient with her, you know," John jumped to his feet and glared at his brother squarely in the eye. William didn't even flinch, and that only inflamed his temper. He hated the fact that William was always better than him, William was this, William was that – he didn't mind Laura because she was the eldest and he knew that he had to respect her authority, but William was only three years older than him. He had no right to push him around like he was some obstinate school-kid.

"Well I don't see it," said William coldly.

"Then shucks to you!" John shoved him as hard as he could and stomped out of the room noisily.

As his anger cooled off, his stomps softened. He decided to pay another trip to the attic to see if Anne had somehow left it there (he knew it was impossible, but you never know). He thought he heard voices in that room and looked into it. The girls were in there. They were seated on the floor. Laura had her arms wrapped around Anne and she was singing 'Hush Little Baby' softly while Anne's sobs turned into hiccups. John felt that he should apologise even if he hadn't done it. He knocked timidly on the door and his sisters looked up in surprise.

"Can I, er, come in?"

Laura smiled at Anne, who nodded and wiped her tears away with a pink handkerchief. "Of course," she said softly.

"Thanks," he mumbled and he walked slowly towards her. After a few minutes feeling properly awkward, he finally blurted out: "I'm sorry for being mean to you, Anne. But I want you to know that I didn't take the whistle. Honest, I didn't."

Anne smiled and sniffed, but she didn't look too happy yet. "I know. And thanks for saying sorry, even if you didn't take it. I should be saying sorry too because I blamed for you for taking it. I thought that you'd done it out of spite."

John grinned weakly.

"Now, it's all settled," said Laura happily, and she tucked Anne's short hair behind her ear, "it'll turn up, Anne, I'm sure it will. They always do, sooner or later."

But Anne was no longer listening to her. Her gaze was fixed on a wardrobe she had seen before in the very same room, but it had been broken before. Now it looked as if it had been fixed and it was even gleaming like newly polished. Laura and John followed her gaze.

"What is it, Anne?"

"The wardrobe . . ." Anne pointed at it. It had elaborate carvings on it and looked to be made of solid mahogany or something like that. Laura and John looked. John frowned. "I don't see what's the - "

"By gum!" said Laura. "Get William. If there's anyone who knows how long it takes to fix a wardrobe, it's him." She said that because he and his friends had often helped Mr. Collins in school repair all sorts of broken furniture. Laura remembered him coming home one day proclaiming proudly that he had managed to fix the canteen larder. Anne hurried off to get her brother.

John looked at Laura, "What's the fuss?"

"When was the last time we came in here?" she asked back.

"Almost a week, I guess. But what - "

"This wardrobe was broken the last time we came in here." She stood and went over towards it. Her fingers traced the delicate carvings on the magnificent wardrobe and when she had finished tracing the shape of two crowns, a thrilling sensation shot through her finger-tips. She withdrew her hands at once and took a step back to admire the full view of the wardrobe.

"Was it?" he couldn't remember.

Laura laughed gently. "You're never one for details like this."

John grinned.

"What's up?" came William's voice as he pushed open the door to the attic. Anne pointed the wardrobe out to him. "How long do you think it'll take to reassemble a wardrobe like that?"

William shrugged. "I don't know, maybe two weeks or more. But hey, wasn't this broken? I remember thinking what a pity this wardrobe's done in the last time we came here."

"I was thinking the same thing. How odd," said Laura.

"Can we take a look inside it?" asked Anne hopefully.

"I don't think there'll be anything interesting in it," said Laura again, thinking of what had happened the last time she had said yes to a plea.

"Oh, it won't hurt us," said William a little hastily and he strode over to the wardrobe and yanked the door open. Anne held her breath and John too became interested when their older siblings peered into the wardrobe. Finally, he said, "Nothing in here. Just some fur coats. And, phew! What a smell!" He made a face and closed the wardrobe door.

"But it's not supposed to - " said Laura, properly mortified. "I mean – oh, how queer!"

Suddenly, there were sounds of footsteps and voices coming from outside the door. Fear stopped their hearts. Miss Pevensie!

If it really was her . . . They didn't dare think of what would befall them next.

John, who was nearest to the door, had some sense to peek outside. The siblings waited for his proclamation with bated breath. Anne went over to Laura and clutched at her skirt.

He leaned a little forward and suddenly gave a yelp. He shut the door and ran towards the wardrobe. "Miss Pevensie and Mrs. Lafferty!" He opened the wardrobe door and jumped in, his eyes wide with fear and his face pale as sheet. "Come on, what are you doing?"

"Are you sure it's them?" asked Laura, her voice shaking.

"Do you think I'd lie to you about this sort of thing?"

The door-knob rattled and the children wasted no time hurrying into the wardrobe. Laura went in last. Anne helped her in, her heart pounding with fright. The door was about to creak open just as Laura had tucked her legs in and pulled the door of the wardrobe shut, but not entirely, because Anne supposed that her sister had heard of what had befallen her classmate, Angela Belamy in school when she had shut herself in the school sports cupboard so that she could escape sports and they ended up calling the firemen to pry the cupboard door open so that she could get out. All the students learnt a valuable lesson.

She backed away slowly into the dark wardrobe, keeping her eyes fixed on the shaft of light from the half-shut entrance. Suddenly, she bumped into something and she gave a little scream. Hurried, frantic shuffling and messy, confused shouting soon ensued in the pitch-blackness of the wardrobe amid the thick fur coats.

"What? What? Who's there?"

"It's Laura – ouch! Don't push!"

"You stepped on my foot!"

"Are you Anne?"

"Whoever that is, stop pulling on my hair!"

"Ow! Who pushed me?"

"Not me!"

"Stop it, John!"

"What?"

"I – WOAH!" Anne felt herself tripping over something and was thinking that nothing could be worse than slamming her face against a piece of wood when, to her utmost surprise, she did fall, but her fall was cushioned by a carpet of rough, dry grass.

Anne groaned and tried to push herself up. "Blearrrghh . . ." she spat out bits of brown grass. Then she realised that they were _grass_, and suddenly she was aware of standing in a forest. The sky above was a bleak grey and Anne took it to be about morning. Behind her were thick bushes and trees and beyond them she could she the faint light from outside the wardrobe.

"Where are we?"


	4. Saved by the Whistle

Chapter 4: Saved by the Whistle

John got to his feet and remarked, "It's light in here."

Laura stood up and realised that she was standing on grassy ground. "Look here, it's grass! But it's brown. Hang on, this is dead grass."

"These can't be trees!" exclaimed William, going near one pine tree and touching its brown, dry needles. "They're so dry!"

Anne stared at the endless, cloudless, dull grey sky. "And won't you look at the sky? It's like a grey, clean slate. It's not usually like that, not even winter days in London, skies aren't meant to look so, er . . . "

"Lifeless," William finished for her. "Boy, is it just me, or is it really cold?"

"By Jove, so it is!" said Laura. She went back into the wardrobe and took out four coats for each of them. They put them on immediately, not caring if they weren't theirs, or if they stank.

"Let's walk around a bit," suggested Laura, and so they did. They walked and walked a while until they saw a lamp-post. "What's a lamp-post doing here?" she exclaimed.

William shrugged. He moved closer to it to study it. "It looks like one of those ancient ones that they've still got in London. But," he turned to look at Laura, "this can't be London, can it?"

"Of course not," snapped John, "We would have seen some buildings, maybe some people. And we would be walking on pavements, not dead grass."

"He's right," said Laura. "But look here: it seems like the light from the sky is coming from it. Isn't it weird? But I swear it is. It's brighter here, near to the lamp-post, than from where we came from."

The other children looked around and saw that she was right. "So the source of light of this country," said William thoughtfully, "is this lamp-post? It sounds a bit far-fetched, isn't it?

"But there's no sun, either," argued John, "And if this land is really inside the wardrobe, it could only have done so through magic, and through magic, just about anything can happen."

Anne frowned. "I don't understand. How can a lamp-post light up an entire country?"

"That's what I'd like to know, either," said Laura. "This is terribly boring. Let's walk around some more."

"I don't know about you guys," said John hesitantly, "But this place seems a bit, er, dead, don't you think?" He kicked at the trunk of a spruce and it cracked and sunk in immediately so that the tree leaned and groaned a bit. "This is unnatural for a tree. Wood doesn't break that easily."

"I've got to admit that you're right," said William, studying more pine needles and plucked them out and sucked on them. He spat them out again. "Dead, definitely dead."

"This is a wasteland," said Laura, inhaling the cold, sharp air. "There's not even a breeze to speak of."

Suddenly, Anne thought she saw a familiar glint at the foot of the lamp-post and gave an excited squeal: "My whistle!" She dashed towards it and picked it up. It was her whistle, all right, but it seemed to gleam more brightly than before. It still had its red wool thread tied to it. She showed it to the others, "I've found it! But how did it get here, I wonder? I have a feeling that it's got something to do with this place."

"I have a bad feeling about this," said John nervously. "Let's set off for home now. There's nothing here."

"I think we should explore some more," said Anne. "You know, find out more about this country: whether there's anybody living here. I don't know why, but I just know it: I think that the whistle meant for us to find this country!"

"I agree with Anne," said William.

Laura thought it over for a moment. "All right," she said at last, much to Anne's delight. "I suppose a bit of exploring won't hurt us."

"Oh, Laura!" Anne threw her arms around Laura's legs.

" 'Won't hurt us?' " repeated John incredulously. "Remember what happened the last time you said something like that?"

"Everybody makes mistakes, John. So don't be an ass," said William irritably.

"This isn't one of those small decisions that don't matter even if you don't make it. We can't afford to make a wrong one this time," argued John.

"We won't be long here, I promise you," said Laura hastily. She looked at her watch. "It's ten minutes past three now. We'll set out for home at five."

John shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. "That's better."

Anne groaned. "Oh don't, Laura, please don't do that. It won't be fun anymore if we have to keep minding the time."

"We need our dinner," said Laura. Anne sighed angrily and half-thought of stomping off to sulk, but remembering that this was a foreign land which she knew nothing about, she refrained from doing so.

They moved away from the vicinity of the lamp-post and entered the dry woods. Laura, being a Girl Guide in school, gathered twigs and sticks and stuck them upright in the ground so that they would be able to find their way back. Soon they lost sight of the lamp-post. The forest was thin and the trees were placed at a fair distance away from each other, but they were bent over like old, wizened hags. There was not a spot of green to be seen anywhere: every leaf, every blade of grass and every parched cluster of bushes was either brown, grey or black. The whole forest seemed to them to be dehydrated, and yet they still hung on to the ground for dear life, refusing to admit defeat. But most had surrendered to the cruel environment and lay defeated on the ground. Often the children had to either climb over these dead brambles or, if they were too fragile, both William and John would take turns hacking through it with what rare good, strong sticks they could find, until the brambles broke apart.

Time seemed to stand still in the dead forest. There was neither sound nor sight of other living beings. Laura checked her watch regularly to make sure that she obey the curfew that she herself had set, but either time was content to move at a crawl, or the battery was growing weaker. They walked on and on until Anne declared that she must rest or risk snapping her limbs.

"Has anybody got any food?" she asked as she removed her buckled shoe, the kind that girls wore to weddings. "How hateful! I have a mean blister over here."

"I've got some kind of sweets," said John hesitantly. He dug into his pocket and came up with a few brightly-packaged sweets. Laura unwrapped one and popped it into her mouth. She sucked thoughtfully as the others watched her.

"Well?" asked William.

"This is toffee," she concluded happily and started chewing. "And it's got hazelnuts and almond in it, and the sweetest layer of caramel. It's practically melting in my mouth! Where did you get these?"

"I nicked them from the larder when Mrs. Lafferty wasn't looking," said John, grinning as each sibling took one toffee.

The children finished their sweets, stowed their wrappers in Laura's coat pocket and moved on. The sweets lightened their hunger, but it made them thirstier. As they walked they kept a sharp lookout for any source of water to drink from, but the dryness of the land ensured that there was none.

Suddenly they were out of the woods and at the edge of a sharp downwards slope. There was a stagnant river a little far off from the foot of the slope. Across the river was another hill also wooded with the same parched forest.

The children were very glad at the sight of the river, so much so that they rushed down the hill to meet it without a second thought. The thought of cool water against their lips and throats overwhelmed them. But once they tasted the water, they spat it out.

"Ugh! What water!" grunted William.

"This is a stagnant river," said Laura bitterly, "And look, it's polluted: what a shade of brown! Since the water's not moving, I reckon that the riverbed's heavy with all sorts of dirt or mud or whatever that makes the water taste horrible."

"But it's still water," argued John. He cupped some of the murky water and drank it. He writhed a little and his face paled, but he managed to croak out, "At least I'm not so thirsty anymore."

"Sound judgement, John," said William and they all forced themselves to drink from the river. There was a good deal of disgusted yells and moans and spitting and rubbing of tongues after that, but in the end, they did feel much better.

"Hush!" said Laura suddenly, and she put a finger to her lips. She turned around and leaned slightly forward and fixed her eyes on a thicket of dry bushes at the foot of the hill behind them. Anne followed her gaze and squinted at the bushes.

William frowned. "What's the matter?"

"I heard something," answered Laura.

"Well, _I_ don't hear anything," said John crossly. He folded his arms. "Are you sure you're not imagining things?"

The bushes shook ever so slightly. "By gum!" whispered William, "You're right!" Anne held on to Laura, who clutched hers tightly in return. She took a step forward. Anne gasped and tugged at her sister's hand, but Laura ignored her. The bushes shivered more aggressively this time, and Anne's hand moved unconsciously for the whistle around her neck. John stood behind William, who cast an anxious look at Laura.

Suddenly a salamander sprang out of the bushes. Anne screamed and Laura grabbed a sturdy-looking stick and smacked it on his head. It screeched a most ungodly screech and to her horror, it fixed its terrible yellow eyes on Anne and sprang upon her. Laura pushed her out of the way just as the salamander crashed into her, taking her out at once. Everything became a blur: Anne could only watch as Laura struggled against its deadly fangs (Anne couldn't remember a salamander sporting fangs) as the boys beat their sticks against the salamander as hard as they could.

"Laura!"

Anne didn't know what made her do it, but she felt she should, and so she did. She put the whistle to her lips and blew on it as hard as she could.

The same, sweet, sharp sound came out from the whistle. It echoed throughout the woods and touched the leaves of the trees and stirred the windless air. The salamander halted and arched its head wildly. Laura took the opportunity to heave out underneath it and get to her feet. It did not respond, it just stood still, its gaze darting around, and when the ground trembled, it screeched and made to dart for the trees, for it had sensed a terrible force that its kind disliked, and it knew nothing but repulsion and fear.

But before it had gone very far, two or three arrows whizzed through the air and struck it, bringing it down in an instant. The children, if anything, were even more bewildered. Laura was still shaking from her fight with the salamander. But Anne was just glad that she was all right. She went over towards her and hugged her sister tightly.

"Oh, Laura!"

"Anne!"

The boys forsook their dignity and joined the group hug as well. They couldn't remember when they had faced a greater danger than the one that had just passed. One of them could have possibly been gravely injured, or even died, from the salamander's attack.

Suddenly a whispery, wheezy voice spoke somewhere above them, "Your Majesties, are you all right?"

They broke away and found themselves surrounded by thin, ethereal creatures that were so tall they had to crane their necks a little to get a good look at them. They wore greyish robes streaked a little here and there with silver, and their hair was long, white and fell to their waist. Their faces were sad and solemn and were very pale. The children marvelled at the ambiguity of these creatures, for they looked human but not quite human. Each of the creature held a bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows slung on their back.

"Your Majesties, are any of you hurt?" asked one of them.

"No, we're fine," said Anne. "Did you come because of the whistle?"

The creature that had spoken and who the children took to be their leader, said to Anne, "Yes, Your Majesty. When we first heard the sound, it awoke us from our deep and dark sleep. The second time the whistle was blown, our spirits are summoned to like a moth to a flame. But it seems that it only affects us Dryads and Hamadryads."

"Of course, how idiotic of me!" said William, shaking his head. "You're the Tree-spirits. How could I forget your names?" Then Anne noticed that there were some of them who were taller and looked more beautiful than some and decided that these greater beings were the Dryads.

The Dryad who had spoken to them broke into a smile. "So you do remember us, Your Majesty the High King!"

William laughed a little nervously. "I'd hate to disappoint you, but, er, I'm not a King. None of us is."

At this, the Dryads and the Hamadryads exchanged puzzled looks with one another. The Dryad turned back to them with a frowning face. "But – but you are the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, are you not?"

"Yes, we are," said Laura. "Well, at least, we're some of them."

"Then are you not the four Kings and Queens who had liberated the Old Country from the iron fist of a wicked tyrant and brought upon the Golden Warmth?"

John broke into a sudden, rude roar. "What did you say? Kings and Queens? You think that we, mere children, are Kings and Queens?"

"What he means to say is," Laura intervened quickly because she thought she saw a flash of anger pass on the faces of the Dryads and the Hamadryads, "that we're not the people that you've mentioned. We've never been head boys or head girls in school, much less rule a country, and this is our first time here. So I think that you've mistaken us for other people."

"Oh, dear," said the Dryad, looking quite crestfallen. "But we were quite sure that you had all come back from the Lord Lion's country to aid us in our dire need. For the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve who are favoured and beloved of the Lord Lion have always turned up to aid the Old Country to defeat her enemies and bring upon peace and prosperity. It had always been so in the stories."

"I'm really sorry, but I'm afraid that we can't do anything much to help you. You see, we ought to be getting back," said Laura as apologetically as she could.

"Oh, don't go! It's not every day that any of us here get to see a Son of Adam or a Daughter of Eve. At least come with us to our cave and have some tea."

"Oh, do let's, Laura!" said Anne, her eyes shining with excitement. "How often are we able to have tea with Dryads and Hamadryads?"

Laura eyed her warily, and then she sighed and nodded. She hoped that she wouldn't regret her decision.


	5. Tea with Dryads and Hamadryads

Chapter 5: Tea with Dryads and Hamadryads

The Dryads and Hamadryads led the children through the lifeless forest. Anne was expecting a lively trek where the Dryads and Hamadryads would tell them stories or jokes in the very least but they had been cautioned not to even breathe a word. As if that was not enough, they insisted on grouping around the children so that they could be hidden by their height. At first William and John protested most vehemently at this but Laura, as was in her nature, was quick to spot the rationale behind this seemingly idiotic notion and told the boys to hold their tongue.

"But Laura!" hissed William.

"Boys and their mentally-deformed egos," she shot back and Anne had to snigger, which earned her a frown from William.

"A little nearer," said the leader Dryad, whose name was Mapha. Laura folded her arms and looked a little worried. Anne reached up and touched her sister's hand and smiled. "It'll be all right, Laura."

Laura smiled back at her, but the worry did not go. "Anne, these people could be anybody."

"But they're good people," she insisted, "I know they are. Do stop worrying a bit."

Laura laughed a little. "I suppose I should." She sounded defeated.

"I'm sorry, Laura," said William suddenly. Laura gave him a surprised look. "Whatever for?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, I just felt like saying it," he grinned. Laura laughed again, and that laughter seemed almost music to Anne's ears, now that she had time to listen and appreciate it. It was happy, and glad, but also sad and noble and forgiving. William laughed too, and his was a deep and warm and rich sound that shivered and calmed her senses.

"Oh, will you two stop it?" said John crossly. "Giggling as if we're on our way to a picnic. I hope that you've had sense enough to realise that we're in a very sticky mess."

"Look at it this way, John," said Laura with as much kindness, Anne suspected, as she could muster, "they saved our lives. Goodness knows, if they hadn't come, we'd be as good as dead."

John seemed to sober up. "You're right, I suppose. But still, they might be up to something you know. Just a possibility."

William nodded. "We've got to be on our guard. Plus, this isn't England either." If Mapha, or any of the Dryad or Hamadryad had heard their conversation, they did not show any sign of it.

Finally they came to what it seemed like the dead end of a giant rock formation when Mapha went forward and stood alone before a thick, tangled curtain of hanging, dead money-plant whose leaves were shrivelled and almost black with age. Its ends disappeared into a thick cluster of thicket that grew up to about Laura's knees. Anne was curious as to what he was doing, and what was about to happen.

The curtain of leaves suddenly twitched. Anne gasped in surprise. A few tense seconds ensued, then the curtain parted and a black, white-striped head poked out and peered at the Dryad.

"Why! It's a Badger!" exclaimed John.

The Badger turned to look at him at once and gave a little scream that startled the children greatly. Mapha quickly put a finger to his lips to silence him. "Hush! Hush, Padtail! Hush, or the servants of Gurd will hear us!"

"The servant of – what?" said William blankly.

"Of Gurd!" said Mapha. "But of course you don't know about him. We'll tell you all about him later."

"Mapha!" gasped the Badger, Padtail. "Are they really – are they? I am old, I can't see properly – and I don't want to hope – oh, Mapha! Mapha!"

"Not so much fuss, will you, dear Padtail? Let us in so we can have a nice tea, then everything will be sorted out."

"Sorted out! Sorted out!" said the Badger, thinking it over, and then he nodded furiously. "Yes! Yes! Come in now, come in! The others will be glad to see you, all of you!" He disappeared into the thicket. Mapha beckoned for the other Dryads and Hamadryads to enter, and then to the children. Before they entered, Mapha noticed the hesitant looks on their faces and said assuringly, "All will be explained."

Laura nodded, but she still looked suspicious. "I certainly hope so."

"No fear, Laura!" said Anne, grinning.

Laura laughed and said, "No fear indeed." She went in first, followed by William, then John, and Anne went in after him. Mapha brought up the rear. She pushed her way through the thick brush, but it proved extremely difficult for her as every time she pushed some apart, more snapped back at her and stung her in the face. Evil bushes, she thought sourly, but Mapha who seemed to sense her discomfort, whispered a string of incomprehensible words and the thicket gave her no more trouble after that.

Suddenly, she stumbled out into a small grotto that looked to be even smaller than the room she shared with Laura in their house in London, and that was saying something. A feeble fire with a simple arrangement of sticks over it burnt dimly in the middle of the grotto. The Dryads, the Hamadryads and the boys sat around the fire while Padtail and the girls prepared tea for them. A teapot was set to boil over that small fire. William had some sense to throw pieces of brush into the fire to make it the flame bigger. Laura cut some bread and spread some butter on them while Anne distributed them. When the tea had boiled, they drank from the teapot as it was passed around.

Soon the tea and the bread had disappeared and they got to business.

"Gurd," said Mapha, "is the lord of this land; the King. But that is a self-proclaimed title. Even then, had he been a good and kind King, we would have accepted his reign, but he was cruel."

"Heartless, to be exact," said Padtail. "Never cared about anyone except himself."

"And he kills at will," said a Dryad named Rathan.

"True," said Mapha. "However so, some of the animals here fear him, and therefore they accept him and adhere to the laws he had made, and these are called the servants of Gurd. We call them servants because they are willing to do whatever he orders them to do."

"If an innocent foal is ordered to be killed, it will be killed," said Rathan glumly.

"And who has not heard of stories of the Old Country, the stories that had been passed down from father to son through the tests of time?"

"Why?" said Laura, back to her worried self again. Anne could tell that she had sensed something amiss, but she didn't know what. "What do they say?"

"In every story that has been passed down from our ancestors," said Mapha slowly, "the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve are the Kings and Queens of Narnia."

"Beloved of the Lord Lion and bringers of peace and justice!" exclaimed Padtail.

"Heroes!" said one Hamadryad.

"Saviours!" exclaimed another.

"Most importantly," said Rathan, "they were beloved and favoured by the Lord Lion himself!"

"Who's that?" asked Anne.

"A great Lion," murmured Padtail in a dreamy voice, "a Lion so great and magnificent that all bow before him and take comfort in his presence. A Lion whose words are law and whose movements are almost of Magic itself." Suddenly, everything was hushed. Anne could feel the slightest tremor in the air shivering off the walls of the grotto, and she shook a bit and gathered her knees to her chin.

"Yes," said Mapha slowly, "did you feel it? Magic! It always feels like this when we speak of the Lord Lion."

"As if he hears," added Rathan, "and approves."

"But where is he?" said William. "Is he – er, dead?"

"Dead!" exclaimed Padtail, "or alive? We don't know now, do we?" The Dryads and Hamadryads shook their heads and muttered words like, "No, we don't."

Laura frowned. "But how – then you've only heard of him – in stories?"

"Why, yes!" said Padtail again.

"Then I'm sorry to say that this is absolute bosh!" said John crossly, standing up, "I'm not going to be taken in by this any further. Do you really think you can make me stay by telling a made-up story about a magical lion and a few kid heroes? You're all up to something, I know, so I'm not staying here any longer. Let's go, Laura!"

"John, what the heck are you doing?" said Laura, and she did not bother to keep her voice down. "Sit down now!"

"Laura – surely you don't believe them?" he asked back, wide-eyed.

"I – I - " she glanced at their despairing faces and back to him, "I do. I believe them."

"What?" he yelled.

"You're being a most frightful ass, John. Sit. Now," said William with a hint of restrained anger in his voice.

"Oh, John," said Anne quietly, "We can sort all this out later. I promise we can. And it's not nice of you to yell so."

"SHUT UP!" exploded John. His face turned extremely scarlet and his blazing eyes fixed themselves on Anne. "If you want to stay here and, I dunno, get yourselves killed: fine with me! But I'm going! I'm going home, and I'll tell Miss Pevensie what you've been up to – then when all of you decide to come home, there'll be a nice caning for all of you."

They were all stunned. As hot-tempered as John may be, they had never seen him lose his temper this way before. William, however, seemed to be even more infuriated by this outburst.

"All right," he said coldly, getting to his feet, "If you think you're so clever then go on! Be a tattletale! Get yourself lost! See if you can find your way out of this place without any help!"

"William," said Laura. Her voice was quiet, but decidedly steely. "William, sit and keep your mouth zipped. John – please – you don't know this place. Stay, and then we'll decide what to do." William obeyed, his cheeks burning.

"No," said John bitterly. "I don't want to be here, or anywhere near all of you. You make me sick." He turned abruptly and pushed his way through the thicket.

Anne's jaw dropped. "John!"

"John!" shouted William. He jumped to his feet and went after him.

"Will! Get back here!" yelled Laura, getting to her feet also.

"We've got to go after him – he doesn't know what he's doing!"

"I say – STAY!" she turned to the Dryads. "I'm terribly sorry about this. Can you – you know – help us find our brother? I mean, you do know your way around this place, don't you?"

Mapha nodded. "We will most definitely help as we are the cause of the rift between all of you."

"No," Laura shook her head. "It's not your fault." On her way to the mouth of the grotto, she stepped on something soft, and picked it up. It was John's coat.

* * *

Now that the anger had dissipated somewhat, John was beginning to feel the first flutter of panic. Not only had he left his coat back in the horrible, stuffy grotto and the cold was biting into his skin, there was not a sign of anyone whom he could ask for help.

'_Get yourself lost! See if you can find your way out of this place without any help!'_

His temper flared up again and he unleashed it on some brambles standing in his path, kicking at it as hard as he could. "Damn you, Will!" he cursed under his breath. Now he was lost. Definitely lost. No thanks to his nosy brother!

Suddenly he heard a snap and crackle of branches. He whirled around, his heart stopping, but all he found was a raccoon, looking timidly up at him. He had to let out a laugh, and he couldn't help but say, "Oh, it's only you."

The raccoon lowered his head, as if respectfully and said, "Indeed, aye, it is only me, Son of Adam."

John gave a yelp and took a step back but tripped and landed on the brambles. "You – you talk!"

The raccoon laughed gently and nodded. "Aye, sir, some of us, the animals here, do talk. Talking here shows our level of intelligence, you know."

John snorted. "Yeah, I guess."

"Pray tell what is your name?"

"I'm John," he replied, and on second thought, "You?"

"Meridian," said the raccoon.

Like the time zone-thingy, thought John as he refrained a giggle. A light-bulb went off in his head. "Say, Meridian, do you know the way out of here?"

The raccoon's head shot up. His bright, black eyes stared back at him for a few seconds, then he said, "I do."

"Goody," said John, breaking into a grin, "because I've got to go back at once. I don't want to keep my, er, guardian waiting. Can you show me the way?"

The raccoon smiled and lowered his head respectfully again. "Of course, sir. Anything for the Son of Adam."


	6. A Sticky Mess

Chapter 6: A Sticky Mess

A few hours later however, John was beginning to regret him ever asking the raccoon for help. If anything, the woods seemed more sinister and foreign as they went along. Occasionally, a chilly sensation would stab into his skin and he would rub his hands and huddle to himself to wear its effect off, but there was no breeze at all. Everything was still in the woods, as if they were the only living creatures in that lonely world. But he remained silent for fear that he would distract the raccoon from his job.

Finally, however, as hunger began to set in and the drop of temperature was far too big to be ignored, John plucked up the courage to speak. "Say, Meridian, are you sure you know the way back?"

The raccoon had been silent the whole time. He did not show any sign of surprise. It simply halted for a short while and said, "I am, Son of Adam."

There was something in his voice that just did not add up, and John could sense it. His nerves were shivering now, but he did not want to lose hope. "We've got to, you know, pass by a – a lamp-post – "

"That I am aware of," said Meridian delicately again. "If we do not continue our journey we would be late and your guardian will punish you."

John forced a nod. "Yes, whatever. It's freezing."

The raccoon did not reply.

A few minutes later, they were suddenly out of the woods, which ended in a gentle slope covered with brown, decayed grass. The landscape looked quite familiar. At the end of the slope, the land spread out drearily before it came to a shining sleet. Across the sleet was another forest. John squinted. "Is that a – a river?"

"Indeed, it is," said Meridian. He moved rather haughtily towards the glittering surface and placed a tentative paw on it. He withdrew it rather quickly. "It is thin ice," he proclaimed, "already it is winter? It has transcended too soon."

"Winter?" exclaimed John. "It was fine when I came in."

"The seasons here begin and end in a brief period of time," explained Meridian patiently. "You must have entered during Autumn, the Season of Decay. Well, now it is Winter, the Season of Death."

"But – " John frowned as he rubbed his palms together and blew on them, "I thought Death came before Decay? And if it's winter, there's bound to be some snow now, isn't it?"

"Indeed," said Meridian. "This is an odd winter." He arched up and sniffed the air. "A change is coming over this land; this is Gurd's doing."

The name 'Gurd' sent tremors down his spine. John remembered what the Dryads had said about that awful fellow. He would not like to think what Gurd would do to him if he ever found him out. For someone who could cause winter all of a sudden, he certainly deserved some fear of his name.

Meridian stepped gingerly onto the shining body of ice. "Come, Son of Adam. The ice is all right for both of us, I reckon."

"I hope you're right," he replied. "And do, stop calling me Son of Adam. I'm John."

Meridian said nothing, but proceeded to cross the delicate surface. John followed suit. At times, the ice felt as if it was going to give way underneath his weight and sometimes there were loud cracks that would occur just mere seconds behind him. They both reached the opposite bank safely.

"Say, can we stop for a break?" asked John when they were in the shelter of the trees. It did not feel so cold in the woods.

Meridian's head darted around. "No, no, Son of Adam. We must reach there at once, or he will have my head – "

"Who?" John's senses sharpened. "Who'll have your head? What're you up to? What's going on?"

The raccoon gave a yelp and backed away slowly from John's sudden start forward. "Please, Son of Adam – I do believe in the Lord Lion – I swear by him: I had no choice – either this, or my family killed! I have no choice but to obey - "

"What – what are you talking about?" spluttered John, utterly bewildered. He could not believe it. His fears about getting lost, tricked by strangers, his cautioning his siblings, especially Laura, even laughing at their lightness; now he was the one who had fallen stupidly for the bait!

Meridian gave a moan. "Oh – oh, forgive me, Son of Adam. I truly am sorry – please – I have no choice – my family depend on me for their lives. Oh dear, what am I doing? Run – run now, Son of Adam – run for your life!"

"But – "

"RUN!"

Suddenly John caught a movement in the trees and realised the full danger of the situation. He turned and ran as fast as he could, out of the trees and back across the frozen river. But just as his foot touched the ice, something sharp and turgid hit his back and fire seared through his body. He cried out; the pain was too excruciating for words, but he forced himself to move on. He must not stop. If he stopped, they would get him – he didn't know what – but he had to get away from them. Meridian's cries of anguish rang out and bounced off the walls of his terrified mind. If circumstances were less forbidding, he would have ran back to help him.

Just a little bit more! The trees on the opposite bank were close at hand. He could lose himself there – get Laura, William, or Anne – or any Dryad or Hamadryad – and he would be safe – but a sudden force hit the ice beneath him and it gave way – at the same time, another shaft hit him – this time his leg – and the agony overwhelmed him. With a scream, he sank onto the ice and felt nothing more than bitter cold water before it all faded into nothingness.

* * *

"JOHN!" yelled Anne, for what was like the hundredth time that day. "John – " she yelled again but her chest suddenly constricted and she was forced to cough. Even in her coat, she was shivering from the cold.

"Anne!" Laura put her arms around her. "Are you all right?"

She coughed again and nodded. "I'm – I'm fine – really – "

"No, you're not," said Laura firmly. She turned to Mapha. "My sister's not feeling well – perhaps, just a short break – "

"I'm afraid not, Daughter of Eve," said Mapha as he shook his head. "Do you not sense it? They are here."

"Who are?" asked William.

"The servants of Gurd," answered Padtail fearfully. "Our shouts have drawn his attention. We should never have left the grotto."

"It was the right decision to do," said Laura, her voice firm despite the shakiness of her lips. Her face was pale from the wintry air and her eyes glinting like a lioness's. "We've got to move on – we've got to find our brother."

"She's right," said William, "we can't – and we're not going to – leave him here like this. He doesn't know his way around here."

"And besides," said Anne, "he's our brother."

Mapha and Rathan exchanged solemn glances. "We will go on looking for him," said Rathan at last, "but you shall not call his name aloud. Only the Lord Lion knows how much you had given away earlier when you shouted his name. The best we can hope is that the servants of Gurd do not spy you in our midst."

Just as he said that, the branches and leaves and boughs all around them rattled and shook and trembled like a beast waiting to charge. The Dryads at once pressed themselves together (the Hamadryads were left at the grotto) to shield the children and Anne clung to Laura's legs and they all held their breaths.

A voice cooed from amidst the branches: "Coo-oo, coo-oo, is that Dryads and Hamadryads I see, and a few beardless dwarfs?"

The Dryads relaxed; some laughed in relief. "It is only you, Whitter!" said Padtail. The next thing the children knew, a snowy Owl had shifted his position so that he was visible to all of them. Anne couldn't help but gasp in amazement. She had never seen owls; let alone one that was as pure white as the one that had greeted them.

"Whitter," said Mapha, "do you have news for us?"

"Coo-oo, indeed I do-oo," replied the Owl, ruffling his feathers. "It concerns a Son of Adam and the Raccoon named Meridian."

"Son of Adam?" blurted Anne. "That's – that's our brother! That's John!"

"What's happened to him?" demanded William ferociously.

Whitter gave him a piercing look. "No one shouts to an Owl!" he screeched back.

"Peace, Whitter," said Rathan, glancing wistfully at William, who had blushed furiously, "he is only concerned for his brother."

"The fool went along with Meridian's lies," said Whitter grimly, "Anyone, really, anybody would know that Meridian is not only a delightful liar, but he has also got himself into scrapes with Gurd himself. He will do anything to get into that tyrant's good graces."

"John – followed a raccoon?" said Laura weakly. Even Anne couldn't believe what she had heard. It not only sounded silly, but ridiculously stupid as well.

"And not just any raccoon!" exploded Whitter all of a sudden and made the children jump considerably, "but a lying, scheming, foul-mouthed one! Coo-oo!"

"That doesn't matter," interjected William. "Do you know if he's all right?"

"How can anyone be all right when he has placed his trust in a raccoon like Meridian?" said Padtail, shaking his head sadly. "No, no, Gurd will have him for sure. He is lost to us. There is nothing we can do anymore."

"What do you mean?" asked Laura sharply. "Are you saying that we should just – just give up like this? Give up on our brother and go home without him? He's an idiot, all right, but he's an idiot who's our brother."

"Then what do you want to do," said Rathan precariously, "Attack Gurd? Storm his lair? Defeat him?"

"Why not?" asked Anne, "I mean – you've all got weapons, and your numbers are fair; and besides, Gurd is just a man – you are all Dryads!"

The Dryads, Padtail and Whitter the Owl burst out laughing. Anne felt her cheeks burning and opened her mouth to retort but Laura shook her head at her, so all she could do was bite her lip and hold her tongue.

"Gurd – a Man?" said Whitter at last. "Oh dear, how stupid are all of you! Don't you know – Gurd is a Raven. A Raven with, somehow, powerful Magic, and that is why some animals are more willing to serve him than defend their beliefs. His power is far beyond any reckoning; and his temper too great to bear. We, and some of the Talking Animals, are the only ones mad enough to defy him. And even then, we are forced to keep extremely close to the ground for fear of being ordered to his slaughterhouse. No, Son of Adam and Daughters of Eve, Gurd is indestructible, he is too invulnerable. Go only one foot in his reach and he'll knock you out in an instant."

Anne gulped and William's eyes widened, but Laura did not seem to recognise the impossibility of it all. "But the stories," she stared hard at the Dryads, "what did the children do in them? You told us: they defeated a wicked witch, escaped from giants, and sailed to the ends of the world. If they can do it, why can't we?"

"But – but they are only stories," said Padtail, aghast.

Dismay wrote itself all over Laura's face. "Then you admit that the stories are not real. That this Lord Lion who you all revere and believe in, is not true either. John was right, you are all frauds. And because of that, he left us and he's in trouble now. I should never have let myself be taken in so simply like this."

There was some uncomfortable silence during which not even Whitter dared to ruffle his feathers. Then, Mapha said, quietly, "Even in the most far-fetched bedtime tales, there is some truth in them. After all, you are of the race of Adam and Eve, a more superior race than any Animal, or Spirit here. Perhaps you will succeed. Perhaps you are the ones to defeat Gurd; end his reign and restore this land to the Golden Warmth of the Old Country. Perhaps."

"Perhaps," echoed Laura, her voice hollow. "But all we want to do is get our brother back."

"Then there is one way," said Mapha. He turned to Whitter and said, "Say, Whitter, can you do us all a favour?"

He shook his feather and arched his back. "Of course, anything for you-oo, and for the Children of Adam and Eve." He bowed his feathered head respectfully in the direction of the children.

"I need you to spread this message to every Talking Animal (and non-Talking, if possible) that is on our side: gather at the Stone Table. And move with haste!"

"Stone Table. Haste. Got it! See you there! Coo-oo!" The Owl wasted no time at all. Soon, he was up, soaring into the air and disappear into a tiny speck in the bleak, grey sky.

"Now," said Mapha. "We make for the Stone Table."

* * *


	7. Things Start to Make Sense

Chapter 7: Things Start to Make Sense

Something hard was pressing against the back of his head. Not only was it hard, it was cold too. He heard murmuring of voices and forced his eyes open. It was dark all around him save for some fires scattered here and there that lit up things a bit. He was in a cave. Was it the Dryads' cave? Did the voices belong to them? Were they Laura, William and John? Motivated by those thoughts alone, he fought the piercing throb that was plaguing his back and his leg and sat up, focusing his gaze.

He found himself wrong.

"Master! My Lord! It's awake!"

"The Son of Adam?"

"The Son of Adam!"

Then John heard a smart rapping that sounded like boots clicking across a stone floor. He held his breath, expecting a Hitler-like man, but a figure came into the scant light and he saw that it was nothing but a . . . Raven. But there was something so terrible, so malicious about his bearing: the way the Raven's feathers ruffled ever so slightly, the way those sleek, scaled muscles gleamed even in the dark, the dangerous curve of its scythe-like beak, and the glinting in its eyes; that told him that this was no ordinary Raven.

He heard a whimper from somewhere to his right which went on to say: "My Lord Gurd!" John recognised the voice. It belonged to that blasted Raccoon! He opened his mouth to say something mean, but the Raven spoke.

"What is your name, Son of Adam?"

John now turned his glare towards the Raven. "I don't need to tell you."

"Fool," the Raven said coldly, "do you know who I am?"

"You're – you're just a great big bird that's all."

A gasp echoed from the huddled figure that stood at the Raven's feet.

"A great big bird? I see. I do not think that I have left the right impression on you . . ."

Suddenly he felt his throat being tightened by a deathlike grip. His eyes darted about wildly, but he didn't see anything that was squeezing his throat. He gasped and the water came to his eyes. He realised that it was It; the Raven was the one doing it. Impossible, he thought. But it made sense. He felt his body weakening. Stop! Stop it!

"St – st – stop . . ."

"Stop what?"

"Ch – choke . . ." he managed to croak out. Too much! Stop! He would do anything to stop it! Stop!

"What do you say if you want me to stop?"

He searched his mind, fumbling with all sorts of words, and finally one came out which he thought was right: "Pl – pleee - "

"Hmm?"

"Pleeeese . . ."

The clench lifted so abruptly that it made him collapse onto the floor and cough as he took in as much air as he could. Never had anyone done that to him – never . . . He looked up at the Raven and the realisation of what he was truly capable of hit him. He could have killed him. He could have died at the hands of this brute. No wonder the Dryads were terrified of him. The Raccoon's words all made sense. His gaze travelled back to the quivering Raccoon and suddenly understood his plight.

"Son of Adam . . ." said the Raven. "You have three siblings, have you not?"

John forced himself to nod.

"They have met up with the Dryads. What is their plan?"

Plan? He didn't know of any plan. He shook his head.

"What? You do not wish to tell me?"

"I – I – dunno," he replied shakily.

"Or do you?" the death grip returned to clench his throat again and John hacked and coughed and gasped in panic for air. He really didn't! Please, he didn't know!

"Oh, oh, my Lord Gurd," said Meridian unexpectedly in a moaning voice. "He is innocent of the traitors' plans. Oh, oh, he is. Please do not hurt him. He is a Son of Adam."

"And that makes him blessed in the eyes of that Lion, now, is he?" said the Raven with sudden ferocity and John soon heard the wracking gasps escape from the Raccoon as well. It isn't his fault . . . he thought wildly . . . the defiance grew stronger: "LETHIMGOIT'SNOTHISFAULTIT'SMEYOUWANTISN'TIT!" he yelled out in one breath. He felt his lungs failing and prepared himself to meet his end . . . oh, he was so sorry . . .

. . . when instantly his throat was released. John did not even have the strength to breathe. He fell to the floor, his cheek hitting the rough planes of cold rock, and from the sound of it, the Raven had released the Raccoon as well.

"Do not think I am pleased with you, Son of Adam," said the Raven in a clipped, steely-grey voice, "There is no Lion here to help you. You had best destroy your . . . nobility, for it disgusts me. And you, Raccoon, as long as you are an Animal, you are subject to my will. Am I understood?"

"Yes – yes, my Lord."

John couldn't bring himself to say anything. Fortunately the Raven didn't try to make him to. In a series of smart clicking the Raven was gone, and John felt his dark presence lift, but it was still there: the hopelessness and dread of everything, the sort of apprehension that makes you feel as if nothing will ever be all right again. He heard a shuffling of feet and a spit; then a yelp, and he turned to look at his right.

The huddled figure was taunting the Raccoon with a series of growls which he caught bit by bit: " . . . now you are not so great as you thought you were . . . always the clever one . . . more superior is who? I! I am! You are nothing but a fool! Fool!"

"Shuck off!" he hissed, and, probably because it didn't understand what he meant, the huddled figure, turned to him briefly, then shuffled off, breathing rapidly.

"Thank you, my true Lord," said Meridian in a broken voice. "And I am sorry. I should have known better."

"It's not your fault," he replied with a sigh.

"I should have stood my ground. I am a believer of the Lord Lion, I really am."

"Well, look where it's gotten you," said John, and after a pause, he said, "Why do you believe in him so much? What good is it?"

"This is a cruel world, Son of Adam," said the Raccoon slowly, "A cruel world where there is no room for kindness. Our only hope is in Him, the Lord Lion. And why? Why? Are we just mere martyrs? No, the Lord Lion stands for everything that is good; everything that is pure, alive and warm. Thinking of Him is comfort enough for us; a reminder that there were better times; better times that will come again just as they had come suddenly before. The sun will shine again. We will have summer once more. All we have to do is believe. The Lord Lion will save those who have faith in him."

* * *

Not a word had been exchanged at all after the owl, Whitter, had flown off. Mapha and Rathan led the way ahead, picking their way through trees and dry brambles and any obstacle that stood in their way. Before that they had crossed a delicate frozen river, during which they had all held hands.

The mood was sullen and painfully sombre. Laura had a dazed look in her eyes. William kept his gaze focused on the back of the Dryad in front of him and nothing else at all. Their demeanour frightened Anne. To make things worse, everything around them seemed to be freezing up. Icicles formed on the boughs of the trees and on blades of grass.

Anne's fingers instinctively reached for the whistle that hung around her neck. Even though everything else was cold, that alone was warm, and it was a real comfort to her. Her icy fingertips warmed at once when it touched the smooth metal. She looked at it and wondered if anything would happen if she pursed her lips around its thin mouth and gave it a nice, clean blow, just to hear that magical melody again.

"Anne," said William suddenly. She let go of the whistle at once and looked up hesitantly at her brother.

To her immense relief, he was smiling. "What are you afraid of, Anne? Do you think that I'll tick you off for touching your whistle?"

"Well," she couldn't help smiling, "to be quite honest, I thought you meant to. After all," she grasped the whistle and looked at it regretfully, "it got us into all this trouble."

"And it saved us," said William gently. He took her hand. Even though his hand was chilly to the touch, yet it felt oddly warm and reassuring. She smiled at him. "Thanks for understanding, Will."

"It's important that we stick together at times like this," he gave her hand a tender squeeze. She giggled. "Oh, William, you do sound like Dad when you say stuff like that."

"Does that make me a grown-up?"

"No," she grinned, "just a pain in the arse."

Suddenly, a murmur came up from up front. Anne noticed that Laura sharpened up to it at once. The smile dissipated from William's face. Then the Dryad who had been walking in front of them turned around to say, "We are stopping to rest."

"Oh, finally," Anne couldn't help but say. The Dryad smiled. "Yes, Daughter of Eve, at last. My feet are aching as well."

"Excuse me," said Laura, "but I hope you can tell me where exactly we are now. Are we any closer to the Stone Table?"

"We are close," the Dryad said simply.

"How close?"

"We will reach it by tomorrow when the sun is highest in the sky."

"Why the Stone Table?" Laura asked again. "Why there?"

"Because it is a place of ancient Magic," answered the Dryad. "In the stories, there was where the Lord Lion held counsel with the witch that had terrorised this land, and it was upon it that He had been reborn."

It made perfect sense to Anne.

Even though there was no sun in the sky, yet somehow the day darkened gradually and quickly with no shade of blue or orange or pink or purple at all. It increased Anne's appreciation for the sunsets and sunrises in her world. They took shelter in a little clearing in the woods. Laura marched up to Mapha and argued with him that it was too risky, but he shrugged and said that unless they were willing to walk all the way to the Stone Table, the one place where the Servants of Gurd did not dare trespass, then she was welcome to do so. After those words were out, he immediately bowed and said repeatedly that he was sorry that he had been rude.

"It's nothing, Mapha. I was the insolent one," she replied and turned away. When it was dark, the Dryads built a small fire. A watch was set to guard the encampment. The children offered to help but Rathan refused them, politely, because they had not the strength and endurance of the Spirits, and what he said was quite true, for after a simple meal of bread and warm water, the children nodded off to sleep at once.

Anne dreamt of a beautiful, open valley that was cut by a beautiful, roaring river. She was standing on top of a hill that looked down upon that valley. To her right, a wide body of water shimmered and a little further up from where the river flowed out into the big lake, there stood something glittering in the rising sun. And Anne realised with a wondrous joy that the sun was indeed rising. The land was full of colour, so different than the bleak world that she was experiencing now. The grass was green, greener than the ones in her world, and the waters were bright blue as a sapphire.

Suddenly she felt a warm breath on her shoulder and she turned around.

A great, golden Lion stood before her. It looked like one of the lions she had seen in the London Zoo, only . . . this was one was different, somehow. The Lion had an intense pair of grey eyes that looked meaningfully at her. Her heart seemed to both panic and calm at the same time. At first she thought of taking a step back, but the Lion spoke: "Peace, Anne."

Her eyes widened. "How did you know my name?"

"I know everything that passes in the worlds, everything that matters and everything that may not matter. I am Lord of all, yet I am not a complete Lord. I am who I am: a Lion. But no mere Lion."

"I didn't think so," she said quietly. Her lips felt dry, so she licked them.

"Do not be afraid of me, Anne. I am your friend. I am a mere illusion of my true self, my subconscious. Though I know all things, I do not know the meaning of that which you hold in your hand," his gaze travelled to her fist. Anne didn't realise she was gripping her hand so tightly. She opened it and the whistle was revealed. Anne suddenly felt the urge to explain what she had done with it and what had happened to them.

"Please, sir," she said slowly at first, but the more she went along the more she felt at ease, "I found it in the attic in Miss Pevensie's house. Once I found it I blew it and – and nothing happened at first, until one day when we were in the attic when we weren't supposed to and Mrs. Lafferty and Miss Pevensie were coming so we thought that we'd hide in a wardrobe that was broken before I had no idea why. That was the day I lost my whistle. Then when we went into the wardrobe there was a land, and there was a lamp-post and that was where I found my whistle. It – it rescued us from a salamander, and, apparently, called the Dryads and Hamadryads and we were rescued – but our brother, John," at that she sobered up, "he didn't believe them telling us about a lion and – and so he ran away, but he got into a scrape with a raccoon and now we're going to the Stone Table to try and patch things up and get him back."

"From who?" the Lion asked gently.

"From Gurd."

"Gurd?" it came out as a growl. "Who is Gurd?"

"He's – he's a Raven," said Anne, trying to recall what the owl, Whitter, had told them. "A Raven with powerful Magic."

"What has he done?"

"He's, quite simply put, claimed the land for himself and he's Lord of the land," she said, for there was no other way to explain what Gurd had done. She didn't mention the part where he killed even innocent beings when he meant to but Anne was the sort of girl who didn't like to badmouth people behind their backs.

A low and fierce growl escaped from the Lion. Anne jumped a bit. The Lion gave a heavy sigh and shook his head slowly. "I did not know of this – I had destroyed it completely." He looked at her as if she had the explanation for it. She remained silent, for she really didn't know what to say, and surely you can't expect a little girl like Anne to have the answers a majestic Lion like him needed.

The Lion seemed to realise it. He turned his gaze back to the whistle again. "It is because of the whistle." She did not quite hear it. "I beg your pardon?"

But he never answered her. The beautiful world suddenly spun and whirled and everything became a blur. The Lion faded together with that terrific mesh of colours and Anne panicked at once. She called out to him, who knew if he could hear her: "What's your name?"

It seemed to echo out through even Time itself . . .

. . . then it echoed back, resonating deeply like a voice of God himself: "ASLAN."


	8. Seeing the Day

Author's note: Thanks for all the reviews. Things are picking up!

Chapter 8: Seeing the Day

"Anne! ANNE!"

Anne jolted awake at the sound of her name and the rough shake of her shoulders. A face swam into view, and for a while Anne thought it belonged to that Lion, but as her vision sharpened it was none other than Laura's. Anne blew a sigh of relief. "Phew, Laura – I thought who it was!"

"Who?"

"Nothing – I had a dream, that's all."

"Was it a good dream?"

"Well, I didn't scream or anything, did I?"

"No, but you mentioned a name."

Anne gaped. "I did? What did I say?"

"You said 'Aslan, Aslan', and right after that, the fire lit up again even though it had died out," Laura paused. "Anne – what was your dream about?"

"I dreamt about this – " Anne sat up and rubbed her eyes, " – this Lion. His name was Aslan. He asked me about my whistle – and I told him all about it, and Gurd too." Anne frowned. "Laura – you don't think – could it have been that Lord Lion himself?"

Laura shrugged. "Who knows? After all, nobody here in this land seems to know anything about his real name. Maybe it was him. Maybe it wasn't."

Anne laughed. "You know, Laura, if I had told you this last week, you wouldn't have believed me. You would have given me a nice ticking-off and strict orders to bed."

The elder girl smiled. "Would I? Crikey, I think you're right!"

"What time is it now?"

Laura checked her watch but slapped her forehead at once. "What am I thinking? The watch's been broken ever since we came here. I can't tell you for sure, Anne, but as you can see it's still dark."

"It must be midnight," said Anne.

"Indeed it is," said a voice from above them. They looked up and found Mapha smiling down on them, but there was no mirth in his smile. "Daughters of Eve, why are you not sleeping? Replenish your energy while you can."

"We can't sleep," said Laura. The Dryad sighed and gazed into the blackness of the trees surrounding the small encampment. The only light that lit up the clearing came from the fire that was burning right in the middle. Once or twice, Anne thought she saw some movement in the shadows.

Finally, Mapha said, "There is great evil lurking in the woods. The fire must not burn out."

"Why?" asked Anne. "What are those – those things out there?"

He looked full and long at her before replying, "Spectres. The most malevolent of Gurd's servants. They loath the light and sleep during the day. The fire will keep us safe as long as it is alight." After a pause, he continued in a hollow voice, "these were once Dryads and Hamadryads and Nymphs before their homes were destroyed. Weak, shapeless and hungry, they turn to Gurd to sustain them. In exchange for life, they give their souls to him." He shook his head sadly. "Some of them were my friends."

Anne and Laura felt very sorry for him, but before they had the chance to comfort him, a surprising gust blew and the fire went out, leaving them in semi-darkness. A shriek was heard from the distance. Mapha put an arrow to his bow and told them, "Rouse everyone now! We have overstayed our welcome."

Laura and Anne got to their feet and wasted no time doing as he said. It took Anne several minutes or so to get William to wake up, for he was a deep sleeper. When he was fully awake, the Dryads had all already drawn their bows and the encampment had been cleared and some had already disappeared into the night.

"What's going on?" asked William.

"Spectres!"

"What?"

"Anne, William! Come on, let's stay together!" She grabbed their hands. The Dryads were now a good distance away and the children struggled to keep up with their long, hurried strides. After some time, Anne let go of Laura's hand.

"Laura! Wait! I – I can't go any further!"

"Come on Anne, it'll be all right," said William. "I'll carry you." He squatted and Anne climbed thankfully onto his back. They scanned the trees around them for a sign of the Dryads. They caught sight of a group of shapes moving away and made a dash for it. If they lost them, they were as good as dead.

Suddenly, a loud shriek erupted from all around them and from the black cluster of trees all around them dark shadows burst out and advanced upon them. Anne screamed and wrapped her arms more tightly around her brother. The Spectres stretched out their black hands, which looked to be just about the only thing solid about them and made an effort to touch them. William gave a yell of anguish as a Spectre's finger brushed against his forehead and he fell to his knees. Anne fell onto her back and it hurt so badly but she forced herself to get up and go to her brother.

"Will! Will! Are you all right?" she turned him over and gasped. Right in the middle of his forehead was a black gash that writhed and bubbled. William clutched at his head as he moaned and groaned. She called his name again several times but he didn't answer her.

Without any warning at all, something bright and hot swooped just above her head. Anne ducked with a terrified cry but realised that the Spectres couldn't have done it; didn't Mapha say that they were afraid of the light? She looked up and saw that it was Laura's doing. Anne didn't know how she had managed to light a torch – but she had. Laura waved it furiously at the Spectres, all the while shouting things like, "Filthy creatures!" and "Be gone!" and "Leave us alone!" They backed away, but they didn't go for good. Laura couldn't keep them at bay forever.

Anne fished out the whistle and blew it one more time in desperate hope. She huffed and puffed until the sweet, mellow sound filled her ears and blocked out the world. Suddenly there was hope, a singing joy, a melodious comfort to the frightened soul, and a warm and a comforting warmth that seemed to pat her on the shoulder and say, "There, there," and the next thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a pure, bright light.

Anne sat up and rubbed her eyes. The brightness faded and then pretty soon she discovered that the light had only come from the sky, the same dull sky, but there were no trees around her. She got unsteadily to her feet and saw that she was on a hill-top, a very wide hill-top that was about the size of Miss Pevensie's lawn. She walked towards the edge and saw the forest spread out below her like a valley. Snaking its way through it was a pitiful, murky river. The winter had ended. She gaped. And to top it all off, the scenery looked oddly familiar.

"Anne!"

She turned around and saw Laura and William running towards her. Laura had tears in her eyes. The black wound on his forehead seemed to have faded into nothing but a brown mark. They hugged her so tightly that Anne had a little difficulty breathing, but nothing could stop the hot tears that streamed down her cheeks. And then all the emotion that had been constrained throughout their miserable adventure in the dead land was released. Even William, who was a boy and thus not expected to cry, shed tears.

"Am I glad you're all right! You gave us such a terrible fright!" said William as he wiped his eyes.

"What – what did I do? What happened?" said Anne wildly.

"You blew the whistle," said Laura with a smile, "And the Spectres just went away."

"Kind of exploded, actually," added William.

"Anyhow they were gone, and then you fainted. William and I took turns to carry you until we met up with the Dryads. Then they gave us a good scolding," Laura turned her gaze to the busy group of Dryads who seemed to be gathering and discussing something rectangular in shape, "and they brought us here."

"Where is here?" said Anne.

"The Stone Table," answered William as he pointed at a rock formation that Anne didn't notice before. It stood right in the middle of the hill-top and the shape of the table was unmistakable. Upon closer observation, it was really a huge, flat slab of stone laid out on top of four stone-blocks. Other than that, there was nothing attractive about it at all.

Anne soon tired of trying to find any special feature about it and suddenly she remembered. "What about John? Did – did any of the Dryads managed to find him yet?"

Instantly, the moods of the children changed to misery. "No," said Laura, "we're here already at the Stone Table but no plan seems to be taking shape. I'm beginning to wonder if the Dryads know what they are doing."

"I'm sure they've got something up their sleeves," said William confidently. "Anyhow, they seemed to have found something."

"What is it?" asked Anne.

"Let's find out."

They joined the Dryads who were watching Mapha and Rathan attempting to break a small, rusty lock on a grubby-looking chest. The chest had intricate inscriptions carved all along its side, visible even through the dirt. She asked aloud, "Where did you find this?

"Below the Stone Table," replied a Dryad. Her voice was laced with wonder. "We were surprised why no one had found it and dug it out earlier before us."

"That is because it was never there until today," replied another Dryad. "Trust me, I've been often to the Stone Table. The below of the Stone Table had always been empty until today."

Anne wondered that, somehow, it had something to do with the whistle. The shape of the keyhole in the lock seemed to resemble the conch-like shape of it. Thankfully, she hadn't lost the whistle in the commotion with the Spectres. She slung it over her head and said, a little timidly, "Can we try opening it with this?"

Mapha and Rathan stopped abruptly and turned to look at her. There was an uncomfortable silence wherein they seemed to study the odds of that simple whistle being able to open such a tough lock.

At last, Mapha conceded.

Anne made her way through the front and knelt in front of the chest. It was a lot bigger up close, and Anne wondered with burning curiosity what it could possibly contain. Was it a treasure chest, or was she about to open a Pandora's box? She licked her lips nervously and fitted the hole with the other end of her whistle. She didn't think that she would like to blow next time on something that had seen the inside of a rusty lock.

She fiddled a bit, and suddenly with a click, the lock opened. She slung back the whistle over her head and removed the lock. The lid was lighter than had been expected. She took a deep breath before she lifted the lid.

* * *

John was just about to give up on ever seeing the day again when the Raven returned some time later with the same, huddled creature. Meridian the Raccoon whimpered as they approached. John was determined not to do the same.

"Son of Adam," said the Raven in his cold, gritty voice, "do you know what has happened?"

He shook his head. Even though it was quite dark in the cold cave, he was sure that he could see the shake of his head.

"The animals are moving, Son of Adam. It is a massive exodus in the direction of the Stone Table," said the huddled creature in a voice that trembled with excitement.

"Some of my Spectres have reported that they have ambushed two Daughters of Eve and one Son of Adam," resumed the Raven wickedly, "And I am very sorry to say that they have left their black mark on the Son of Adam."

John's heart jumped in terror. William!

"What happened to them?" he asked shakily. "And what's this black – mark thing? What did they do to him?"  
The Raven cackled. "You will find out soon. Zar."

John wondered what on earth did Gurd mean, but when he saw the huddled figure moving towards him, he concluded that Zar must be its name. Zar lifted his black robe and drew from inside a polished black goblet and a black chalice. As John watched, the chalice was tilted and steaming hot black liquid poured out from the chalice. The smell was supremely awful.

"Drink it," said the Raven when the goblet had been poured full.

John gave him a revolted look. "You can't be serious!"

"Or you will not have the strength to walk all the way from here to the Stone Table. Though you may be a Son of Adam, I am not your servant."

"What's the Stone Table? Are you going to kill me there?"

"Possibly," the Raven's beak curved into a twisted smile, "if your brother and your sisters do not co-operate."

John's heart leapt. Laura! William! Anne! "Fine," he said, and as Zar approached him with the goblet, John scrunched his nose and held his breath and tried not to feel sick as he swallowed the concoction.

It was warm, and if it didn't taste so vile, he reckoned he might have enjoyed it. Zar forced the whole goblet down his throat until he coughed and choked and spluttered. It took a while for the whole thing to go down, but when it finally did, John could feel the strength returning to his limbs.

"Stand," commanded the Raven.

He tried, and found he did. He was tempted to say thanks, but the whole situation was so grim and malicious, and not to mention the hostile taste that still lingered on his tongue, he could not bring himself to spit it out.

"Now come," said the Raven as he turned around. "Do not think you can escape without my notice. I am more powerful than you think."

"Whatever," grumbled John. "What about Meridian?"

"The traitor can stay until he has fully learnt his lesson," said Gurd.

John looked back helplessly at the quivering Raccoon. He would have liked to go neck with neck with the Raven, but he desperately wanted to see his family again.

"I'm sorry," he said softly before he followed the Raven out of the cave and through a series of dark and gloomy and dank tunnels before finally the day came into sight and shone a glimmer of hope in his heart.


	9. A Dangerous Deal

Author's note: Thank you for the noticeably more constructive reviews: they really, really helped. I apologise too for taking ever such a long time to update: no thanks to writer's block and extremely busy schedule!

Chapter 9: A Dangerous Deal

"Crikey!" was the first thing that came out from Anne's mouth.

She pulled out a sword; its scabbard gleaming in the pale light. It felt heavy in her hands. She was about to grasp the hilt and pull the sword out when a hand touched the scabbard. Anne turned and saw that the hand belonged to Laura. But her expression was odd, as if she had seen it before and thus wanted to be united with it. Anne relented the sword to her sister.

Laura didn't say thanks; she kept her gaze focused on the weapon. Anne watched with bated breath as she unsheathed the sword slowly, studying the fine runes etched into the blade. Then she held it up as if she had done it for years. A gentle breeze blew and caught them by surprise; bringing with it a reverence and salutation. The Dryads knelt and Mapha whispered: "Our Queen!"

Laura looked at them solemnly but she didn't say anything. Anne wished she would. William appeared to be fidgety as well. They were not at all used to seeing their sister as a Queen.

Laura sheathed the sword and held it by her side. "Please rise. I'm not your Queen. I can't lead all of you."

"But you have the sword," said Rathan, standing up. The Dryads followed suit. "We follow those who carry the sword."

"Anyone can have it," said Laura, her voice a bit panicked. She handed the sword to William. "Here, Will; take it; you're a boy."

"It's yours," he replied, "Boy or not; it's your sword. You were meant to have it." Laura pursed her lips and looked back at the Dryads. Mapha bowed and said, "The Son of Adam is right. After all, you are eldest; thus you possess the most authority. We hearken to you."

Suddenly, Anne caught something moving among the trees in the valley below. She gasped. Laura turned around and the Dryads became alert.

"The Enemy!" whispered Laura.

"What do we do, Your Majesties?" said Mapha. She turned to him, speechless, not knowing what to do. Anne looked desperately at her and at Mapha again.

"We fight to the end," she said at last.

The Dryads readied their bows. "Aye, Your Majesty!"

"Get back, Anne!" said Laura, bringing Anne to the back of the lines of Dryads that had been formed. They came to the back of the Stone Table and she sat her little sister down. "Stay here, and don't let them see you! Will!"

William had picked up a bow and a quiver full of arrows from the chest. He tested the flexibility of the string and, setting his jaw determinedly, he joined Mapha and Rathan at the front line. Anne's mouth fell open. She didn't think he had ever seen a bow before, much less use it. Then she made up her mind.

"I want to help too!"

"Anne! It's too dangerous!"

"If Will can, so can I."

"I won't allow you."

"Laura, I'm a big girl!"

"What am I going to do if something happens to you? I promised Mum – I promised her I would take care of all of you – and I will keep that promise. So you just stay here, don't show yourself – " she didn't get to finish that sentence for a loud bellow had sounded in the distance, the kind of sound a bull makes before it charges at you. Laura rushed to the front line at once and took her place beside William, leaving Anne by the Stone Table.

Anne watched, her heart beating fast, as the tenseness of the situation mounted. The strings of the bows were trembling. Breaths were short and rapid. The air, as if deliberately adding to the tautness, was as still as time itself.

Suddenly, Mapha lowered his bow with a laugh; shaky at first, but gradually became more joyous. Laura sheathed her sword too and Will replaced the drawn arrow back to the quiver slung over his back. Anne frowned; what was happening?

A hoot, and then Whitter the Owl appeared, soaring above them all triumphantly; and in its wake was the biggest gathering of Animals that Anne had ever seen. A parliament of owls flew in circles overhead them, followed by the mighty eagles. A myriad of Animals; from Leopards to Horses and to Beavers topped the edge of the hill-top and marched in a steady procession towards them. They halted several feet away from Laura and Will and the birds perched on the ground beside their flightless friends. Laura turned around and beckoned for Anne to come to the front.

When Anne had done so quite nervously, a pair of Beavers who were at the front-most part of the march, came forward and bowed to the children. "We have come, Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve."

Laura was lost for words. She gave sidelong glances to both William and Anne, but they were equally dumbfounded as well. Then it dawned upon Laura that it was all up to her now that she had the sword. She drew it from its sheath and held it up in salute. "Welcome, fellow comrades. We are glad that you have come, united in one purpose: to liberate this land and restore it to its rightful ruler." However confident it may have sounded, her stomach was actually writhing with discomfort. She had only meant to rescue John; who could have known that such a thing would happen?

But it had been said. They had made themselves clear as their leaders. There was no turning back.

"We recognise your authority, Your Majesties," said one of the Beavers, before she could say anything else. The other Animals nodded in agreement.

Laura drew a deep breath. "Very well. I, to be honest, I do not mean to lead all of you to war – " groans and moans sounded up from the Animals and a Leopard silenced them with its yowl.

"Like I said, I don't mean to go to war – it's only under very desperate circumstances that – "

"But this _is_ a desperate situation!" neighed a Horse. A few Animals nodded and muttered in agreement.

"Quiet, all of you!" said the Leopard that had yowled earlier, "we must listen to the Daughter of Eve. She is our leader, our Queen." Many Animals voiced their assent. Laura tried not to be too pleased.

"The Stone Table," began Laura slowly, "is a place of negotiation, a place where deep magic and diplomacy meet and mix well. If possible, I would very much want an audience with this – Gurd – himself. Here."

"For what?" demanded the Horse again, stamping its hoofs. "What do you want to negotiate for? A peace treaty? That Gurd will never set foot here again? It is folly; Gurd – peace? Never!"

"Our brother was taken away from us," said William in a hollow voice. "This is the only way."

"So we are a tool for you to get your precious brother, is it?" said the Horse.

"Be quiet, Maran!" growled the Leopard. "He is still a Son of Adam; thus he will have respect."

"Yes, a Son of Adam who was foolish enough to trust Meridian the Raccoon," hooted Whitter.

"Listen," said Laura firmly, and miraculously, the Animals fell quiet, "I know this may all sound pretty bosh to you; but by establishing this – " she could find the word, " – this – "

"March?" offered one of the Beavers.

"Yes, er, March," said Laura as she gave them a grateful smile, "We can save not only our – I mean, a Son of Adam, but also free this land from Gurd's tyranny. Surely – surely our might is greater than his. Surely we have the blessing of the Lord Lion!"

The Animals cheered and some jumped and squealed for joy. Laura exchanged relieved and glad smiles with Anne and William. He gave her an encouraging nod.

"Your Majesties!" exclaimed an Eagle suddenly from the sky. They looked up at once. The Eagle gave a sharp cry and swooped down to land directly in front of Laura.

"Your Majesties!" he said again.

"What's the matter?" said William.

"Yes, yes, Beadon!" said one of the Beavers, "whatever's happened?"

"Wait – catch – my breath – very well – Your Majesties – Gurd – come – army . . ."

* * *

John's stomach had been twisting and writhing ever since they had left the cave. And it didn't help too that as the journey went on, an army of hideous creatures and black, floating shapes shrouded in tattered black cloaks had gathered behind him. The Raven was, of course, at the very front, and Zar was at his feet, trudging with much difficulty; and behind them was John. Every time John turned around, the black mass of animals and fiendish creatures and the cackling black shapes seemed to grow bigger and bigger.

"My army," said the Raven suddenly. John whipped his head to the front. Gurd turned his head slightly and his beak twisted into a grin. "My army," he said again. John stared at him back as defiantly as he could, but the Raven only laughed, as if mocking his foolishness.

After what it seemed to be two hours of non-stop walking and just as John's knees were beginning to ache and his steps falter, they climbed a hill. Its slope was quite steep, and often John had to stop to gather his breath, but every time he stopped, the black shapes would brush against him and the spot where he was touched burned. The first time it happened, he yelled and sank straight to his knees, but Gurd instantly brought him up with a sharp lashing of his talons. The whole army laughed and sneered and poked fun at him, and John wished he was dead, but he had not such fortune.

Finally, after braving the insults and enduring the pain from Gurd's claws, John made it to the top of the hill. Gurd took a few steps before halting in front of him. John inched to the right a little bit to get a better view of where they were.

They were on a wide field of sorts, a field that was filled half-full with all sorts of animals. In fact it appeared to John that almost every single animal in the forest and converged there. Behind the herd of animals was an arrangement of boulders that made it clear to John that he was there, at the Stone Table. And it also seemed to him that every animal's eyes were fixed on Gurd, and resentment pulsed through the air.

A few tense minutes passed before suddenly, something parted through the animal herd. John's heart leapt to his mouth. Laura! And behind her were . . . William and Anne! He longed to cry out their names, but he still feared Gurd's wrath; so he held his tongue.

Laura stopped several feet away from the Raven. At that point, John saw the fearlessness in her eyes; and at the same time he could sense her anxiety. For once in his life, he felt nothing but respect and trust in his sister. Somehow, he knew that she would sort everything out.

"Greetings, Daughter of Eve," said the Raven, inclining his head a little bit in mockery. Behind him, his army sniggered and sneered and cackled, but Laura did not flinch. Anne, however, turned a bit red.

"And greetings to you too, Raven," said Laura, curtseying. That wiped off the smirk from the Raven's face and earned soft bubbles from the animals behind her, but it all lasted a very short while.

"I hope that you know why I have come, O Human," resumed the Raven with just a hint of sarcasm hanging onto every syllable. It was quite clear that he did not think much of two girls and a boy leading a whole forest of animals against him.

"You hold my brother captive," said Laura simply. Her gaze travelled to John and she gave him a brief smile, which he returned weakly.

"Yes, it is very true, and I cannot deny how much I have enjoyed detaining him . . ."

"You will release him," said Laura suddenly and firmly.

The Raven was sharp to return to his guard. "Oh? And why should I, O Daughter of Eve? I had not even had the remotest fun with him. My Spectres have not touched him yet, you see – "

"You tell your filthy Spectres that he's not a toy!" snarled William abruptly, drawing his bow and aiming an arrow at Gurd's neck. John noticed that there was an odd, murky smear across his forehead.

The Raven screeched and leaned forward. "My, my, Son of Adam, what a lovely ornament you have on your forehead – I must congratulate my Spectres . . ."

There was a ring of metal and then suddenly, Laura had drawn a sword and held its tip to the Raven's neck. "This is the Stone Table, Raven, have some respect."

Gurd cackled and shook his head slowly, but he backed away. "Do you think that mere metal and strength can defeat me? You speak of Magic, very well. But it is I, O mere girl, that possess this Magic!" Then, louder, "This place is the very heart of Magic, and it is I, Gurd, Lord of this land, who has conquered it and leashed it; you are all subject to the might of pure Magic; thus you are all subject to me!"

"We shall see about it," said Laura bravely, but to John, it seemed pretty foolish and mad to challenge Gurd. "I offer you a bargain, Gurd," she said hastily, as if the thought of it had just occurred to her, "A bargain that will benefit you as much as it benefits me, perhaps to you even more."

An eyebrow rose. "Oh?"

"A duel," said Laura. "A one-on-one. Just between you and me."

"Go on, go on," urged the Raven, seeming to be enjoying what he was hearing.

"If I win, you will give John back."

"What if _I_ win? What will I get?"

"You – " here Laura's voice faltered.

"Allow me to make a proposal: if I win, this land will be entirely mine; if I win, you and the Son of Adam and the Daughter of Eve will leave this land and swear never to meddle in our affairs again."

"What about John?"

"He shall stay with me, of course," the Raven clicked his beak menacingly, and John's heart stabbed with panic. What? Stay forever with _him?_

"No!" said Laura, looking at him wildly. "No. No . . . if you win," she faced the Raven squarely again, "my life is yours."

Gurd's army roared and howled and stamped their feet in excitement. John shook his head to himself. No . . . Laura, what are you doing?

"Your life?" Gurd's beak twisted into a smile. "You've got yourself a deal, Daughter of Eve. Tomorrow; midday shall our match take place. If you are wary of the time, your loyal Dryads will keep it for you. Remember, Daughter of Eve," he ruffled his feathers and clicked his beak again, "a promise is a promise."

Laura stared at him for a few moments before replying bitterly, "I know."


	10. No Turning Back

Author's note: I was pretty disappointed about the lack of reviews, but never mind: thanks very much, as always, to Callie for your generous review! This chapter may be quite short and disappointing, but I felt I had to do it. Enjoy nevertheless!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is C.S. Lewis's right.

Chapter 10: No Turning Back

After Gurd and his army were gone from the hill (with, unfortunately, John in tow), Laura ordered for tents to be set up and lunch to be prepared. The Animals quickly recognised her authority and obeyed without needing to be pushed by the Dryads, not even Maran the Horse or Whitter the Owl. Anne offered to help as well; she couldn't bear the thought of sitting around doing nothing.

As she helped a pair of Badgers (quite big for their kind) pitch a small, grey-coloured tent, she couldn't help but notice Laura walking slowly and tiredly, with her head hung, towards the chest that lay beside the Stone Table. There was a certain pang of sombreness that stabbed Anne in the heart. She muttered a quick apology to the Badgers (who were really kind Animals and didn't mind at all) and hurried to join her sister.

"Laura," she said.

She turned around and smiled. "Hallo, Anne. Have you been keeping yourself busy?"

"I helped two Badgers set up a tent, er, halfway."

"At least you've been doing something," said William with a grin as he fell in step with them.

They laughed, and then suddenly, there seemed to be nothing more to say. Anne was unexpectedly conscious of the reality of everything that was happening around her: the heaviness of how the situation had become: what turned out to be an escapade from Mrs. Lafferty and Miss Pevensie had suddenly grown into this: John's life was at stake; wait, no, both his and Laura's life were in danger; her train of thoughts halted there, and she burst into tears.

"Don't cry, Anne!" said Laura, stopping and hugging her little sister. "It's going to be all right."

"I – I don't see how," sobbed Anne, burying her wet cheeks into her sister's neck, "Oh, Laura – you're going to fight that – that horrible monster tomorrow – it's almost more than I can bear!"

"It's the only way, Anne," said Laura quietly, "It's the only way we can get John back."

"Is it?" said William, and the girls looked up at him. His expression was one of sorrow. "You shouldn't have done the bargain that way. What good will it do to you?"

"If I win, we'll get John back."

"What if you don't? I don't mean to sound condescending, but – but that _Gurd _is about ten times more powerful than you. He means it when he says he's got Magic; which you obviously don't have. What you've got is a sword, maybe a shield and some armour if we can find them in the chest, and sheer, dumb, luck. Face it, Laura, it's a dead end."

Her face hardened, and Anne didn't think she had seen her more resolute and determined. If anything, Will's advice had only thickened her shell.

"I'm going on with this, Will. I know that it's hard, but no pain, no gain."

"Laura – you don't understand – we can't lose you! _I_ can't lose you!"

Laura stared at her brother openmouthed. "Will – I need to do this! I need to get John back!"

"But is this the right way?"

"What do you suggest? Do you want me to walk over to Gurd's camp and tell him that I've changed my mind? Is that what you want?"

"I – I don't know."

"Then hold your tongue! I know what I'm doing and I'm not turning back!" Anne couldn't help a whimper when she saw an unnatural blaze in her sister's glare. William shrank back and gave her an odd look before stalking off towards the encampment. Anne could tell that he was grievously hurt. She wanted to hurry after him and console him, but before she could do that, Laura had marched off towards the chest.

"Laura!" she exclaimed, catching up with the elder girl. "Laura – he's hurt."

"But not physically now, is he?" she replied savagely. They arrived at where they had left the chest. Laura knelt and threw the lid open. With a vengeance, she dissected the contents of the trunk, revealing a heap of swords, three or so shields, daggers, arrows, three helmets and an astonishing three sets of armour. Anne gaped. How could a chest fit so many things without overstuffing itself? Was it magic as well?

Laura seemed to have realised the very same thing. She would have liked to think about it, but she was too bothered to do so. Instead, she picked up a dagger, unsheathed it to inspect its sharpness, and handed it to Anne. "Here, Anne. This is yours. Keep it with you – you might need it."

"What about a sword?"

"They're too big and heavy for you," she said curtly.

"They might be useful!"

"Anne! I just gave you a dagger – live with it!" shouted Laura with such alarming fury that Anne jumped. Sensing her frightened gaze and realising just how uncivilised she was about to become, Laura tried to soften her tone as she told her to fetch Mapha and Rathan so that they could take the weapons and save the suits of armour for her and William. Anne didn't even argue about not getting one; she ran off to get the Dryads at once.

Properly grieved and distressed, Laura descended the hill and strolled forlornly, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword tightly, until she reached the river bank. The blank, gloomy hue of the motionless water depressed her. She sat down on the gentle slope of the bank and did something she had wanted to do for a long time: weep.


	11. A Step Forward

Author's note: Extremely sorry for taking such a miserably long time! Have been a bit out of inspiration for a while. But now here it is! I hope that it's still up to par!

**Chapter 11**

Anne saw no more of Laura after the ugly row. She strangely found no more words to say as well, not even to Will, and when she spoke to Mapha and Rathan, they gave her curious glances as if they could sense that something was amiss between the siblings. Whitter nailed it down for them. "There's been some arguing, hasn't it? Coo-oo!" The Dryads gave him such deathly looks that for once, the Owl was intimidated by something other than Gurd.

Anne had to laugh at the sight of Whitter hiding his head behind one smooth white wing. "Yes, Whitter, I'm afraid you're right." She hesitated. She remembered the fights that they've had among them. Usually they were caused by John and his insolence but now it had gone quite the opposite. Nevertheless, no matter how bad it had gotten, they always came out all right. And this time, she decided firmly, it would turn out just the same.

Finally, Mapha said in a sagely manner, "Blood runs thicker than water."

She tilted her head. It sounded very familiar, as if someone had whispered it to her from a distant memory. But where? And who?

Whitter huffed self-righteously. "In short, things will be all right again. Let's be off to see to dinner, Dryads! Coo-oo! Oh we have plenty to do-oo!" He flew off his perch on the top of a tent. The Dryads smiled reassuringly at Anne before following the Owl's lead. She sighed and hoped they were right.

The next morning, Laura finally emerged from her haunt by the river bank. From the bedraggled look on her face, she might have spent the entire night there. But a fire burnt in her eyes. A fire that neither Anne nor William had ever seen before. She looked much more composed and steady than before, more sure of herself. And the first thing that she did was to go to them, with sheathed sword in her left hand and a holly twig in the other. It had four berries on it.

William and Anne stood awkwardly before her. They had both been in the middle of a breakfast of dried raspberries. For a few minutes, all three were silent, not knowing what to say.

Thankfully, Laura broke the silence by handing the holly twig to William. "I'd like you to have it."

He frowned at it. "What's it for?"

"I had a dream last night," she said. "A dream about a Lion." At that she smiled at Anne. "He told me to find a holly twig that had berries on it. If I found it at all, I must give it to the person that I trusted the most. We each must eat one berry, together with Anne, of course. And it would protect us until - " Then she unexpectedly paused.

"Until what?" said Anne.

"Until he comes," finished Laura quietly.

They fell quiet again. Each was deep in thought and unsure of what to do next. William sighed and plucked a berry from the twig. "Do you know that holly berries taste extremely awful?"

Anne punched him lightly on his leg. "Oh, for goodness's sake, Will!" She popped one berry into her mouth and so did William and Laura. Then he tucked the twig into his pocket. The other berry was to be saved for John.

"Don't lose it," said Laura, staring at where he kept it.

"I won't."

"Bad things would happen if you do."

"I said I won't, all right?" his voice went up a notch, and he glared at his elder sister. Anne held her breath, alarmed. But Laura smiled him off. "I know you will."

He looked confused, but he nodded and bit his lip. "Thanks."

"That won't be a problem," she replied. "Can you run along and tell Whitter that I need the animals to gather here on the eastern side of the Stone Table in ten minutes? I haven't organised the March yet; they must be feeling quite lost and useless by now."

"I'll do it," offered Anne, and she ran to fetch the Owl. That left William and Laura alone.

"Are you sure you can do this?" said William in an oddly low voice.

Laura sighed softly. "Yes. Yes, I think I can."

"How are you going to fight?"

"The usual: sword, shield."

"But you haven't learnt to use them yet."

"That's why we needed to eat those berries," she said, lowering her voice. "Those are magic berries. Those are the only holly berries you'll find here at this moment." She paused. "At least that was what the Lion had said."

"And you trust him?"

"Why not?" she challenged back.

He looked at her, worry and admiration all jumbled up in an unsteady ship of emotions. The scales were tipping precariously. Should he go along with her and trust her dream, or insist that she pull back and think of another way to go up against Gurd. This was all a mistake. A huge mistake.

"We'll turn out fine," she assured him with a knowing smile.

"I hope so."

"I trust you, Will," she placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "And I trust your bow. You've been practising last night haven't you?"

He broke into a grin. "Of course I have. I've always dreamed of joining the archery team in school. Wait till they see what I can do with it when I get back!"

"We'll get back all right, Will," she said solemnly. "We'll get home safely and you can show it to them. You know that don't you, Will? Hmm?"

He gazed at her again. Then he sighed and nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"Coo-oo!" hooted Whitter as he swooped into view. "They're coming, Your Majesty! May I know what you intend to do-oo?"

"You'll see, Whitter," said Laura with another smile of hers. She nodded at William and they made their way to where the animals were slowly converging. Laura's gaze unwittingly turned to the horizon, to the far east, and saw a glimmer of polished stone where the land met the sea, right beside the mouth of the dead river. Polished stone? That seemed highly unlikely in this dead place. She shrugged it off. There were more important things to think about now.

Round the bend of the hill of the Stone Table, Gurd set up his camp and quickly prepped up his army as soon as the sky turned the faintest hint of washboard light. John could hear him from inside his prison of a camp where Zar, the Raven's hunched servant, was charged with the task of polishing Gurd's armour and guarding him. John could hear what Gurd was saying to his soldiers; dark beasts and fell animals the lot of them, who looked as if they fought out of fear. He could peek out through the flap of the animalskin tent and see the hasty rows of Gurd's army, bellowing and thrusting their spears and swords and shields into the air whenever the Raven uttered a catchphrase. He strained his ears to make out what Gurd was _actually_ saying. It might be of some help to Laura if he knew what Gurd was planning. That is, if he could ever talk to her in time.

"It is in a language unfamiliar to the race of Adam, I'm afraid," said Zar suddenly, but never looking up from his task. John turned to look at him. His hood still did not yield any part of his face, but John could see furry, greenish hands clutching what looked like a bar of soap and scrubbing it forcefully onto each and every piece of Gurd's armour. Which was unlike anything that John had ever seen, because it lacked kneecaps and it was shaped to fit a bird's structure, but surprisingly there was a gauntlet to go with it. John could tell all this because of his frequent trips with Dad to museums in London. When he had been around. He struggled with the urge to cry as he remembered sitting on his father's shoulder, hugging his father's head as he pointed out deeds of knights gone by to him, with William and Laura holding on to the big man's hands, staring in awe at the armoured figure on a horse in front of them. It was one of the few childhood memories that John could remember. He bit his lip and lowered his head. What would Dad say if he could see him now?

"Would you not like to know what my Lord is saying?" said Zar again.

John glared at him. "As if you would tell me."

Zar laughed, a hoarse and whispery laugh. "Too true, son of Adam. Too true. But know this, by the time he has said what he has to say, his men will no longer feel the need to fear the children of Adam any longer oh no! Because," at that moment, Zar looked up, and even in the shelter of his hood, John could see glinting black eyes, empty and soulless, "because there _is _no need to fear your people. Eh heh, no. He possesses Magic. But you do not. He can uproot even the strongest of trees and give life to the dead! Whereas you," Zar scuttled towards him and John shrank back. The smell of rotten flesh emanated faintly from the creature. "You are helpless! Weak! Stupid! And - weak!" A loud and rowdy cheer erupted from outside, one that could be heard even from the Stone Table, and John felt truly weak. And stupid. He cowered, feeling his helplessness all over again. He shook his head slowly to deny it to himself, but he knew it was true. Zar was right. If he wasn't weak, he would have escaped Gurd's clutches and would be helping Laura to defeat Gurd right there and then. If he wasn't stupid, he wouldn't have trusted Meridian the Raccoon in the first place, and land himself as well as his siblings into this sort of trouble. "Bah!" screeched Zar once more, "Weaklings all of you! Nothing compared to - "

"That's quite enough, Zar," said the quiet, malicious voice that belonged to Gurd.

Zar pulled back, but his eyes never left John's frightened ones. "I have demoralised him enough," said the hooded creature.

"Indeed you have. And it is a job well done," replied Gurd in a self-satisfied tone. Suddenly the Raven's large head and wicked beak swooped down so that the glinting tip was only inches away from John's face. "But you heard what Zar said, didn't you?" His voice dropped several notches lower until it became something like a deep, earthly rumble. "He is quite right, you know. You are doing nothing to help your circumstances. You are doing nothing useful. Therefore you are wretched. Oh your father would weep to see his son remain so dutifully an observer, rather than an action-taker." A guttural laugh rumbled about deep in Gurd's throat. "But you can save the embarrassment you have caused to the memory of your father, you know. You can do that. And you would not be displeasing me in the process. Would you like to know how?"

John shook, considerably. But he could not stop from asking, "How?"

The beak went nearer till it rested just beside his ears. "Fight. For me. Fight for the freedom of this land. Fight and show them all the true nature of the race of Adam, that he is powerful and strong and lordful. Show them that Adam was great and so is his son. When you have fought for your right upon this land, you will become King. King! And I will consent to settle as your most trusted advisor. You will lord over this land and the animals will serve you. They will be honoured to kiss your feet and plead for your mercy. And you will receive the blessing of the Lord Lion, for he loves the race of Adam. He would _love_ for you, a Son of Adam, to be become King over this land, oh yes, rather than me."

Gurd pulled back and the sides of his beak twisted up a little bit to show that he was smiling. "What do you say, Son of Adam?"


End file.
